3 am, muted glow in the fog drenched sky.
Street silent and unmoving, layered snowfall swallowing
daydreams, memories, lost in the cold
and gentle air.
Across, the buildings silent, inside them
two dozen sleeping soundly,
a single warm window glow several houses down.
I lean against the frosted glass,
I take in the unseen unheard stories born
in the thralls of winter nights.
