From my hotel window, I see a river of cobblestones
And cars moored by its bank for the night.
A cat runs across the river safe for now, to a litter bin
A squeal as it catches its prey.
From the opposite hotel a few shards of light that
Gives succour to the dying and those who cannot sleep
They wait for the radiance of dawn
Till they hear people talking cars starting and the night
And the dead is a memory so easily forgotten.