in the early morning,
who is working in that tall building on the hill,
whose lights are burning bright, whose minds
are whirring still after a long night.
on the ground, it is still dark
the quiet only broken by the shuffle of my feet,
the clicking of her claws on the sidewalk
there is no one here, only us to watch
the glorious rose-colored clouds sweep
across the landscape.
it will be light soon.
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