Solitude

I have known the solitude of asphalt,
the sudden, snarling launch of a cold engine,
Street lamps shining like beacons through the haze,
crisp air sucked through flared nostrils and exhaled through pursed lips
paced rhythm of sneakers slapping against the sidewalk,
The alternating of red, yellow, and green reflecting off concrete,
signaling empty lanes that it’s time to go.

And as the morning mist unfurls its clutch,
exasperated breaths are muted by a pulsating chime on my wrist,
Dawn arrives as light slowly spills across the avenue,
the street is pressed down by the weight of newly risen traffic,
Today’s accomplishment births tomorrow’s opportunity.