South Side, Two A.M.
A wind stirs the doorway sleeper
with a cold toe. The nursing mother
has put her child back to bed.
The waitress counts her tips.
The insomniac, uncompanioned,
hears a siren bark, sees the lights
of the hospital. Illuminated from within,
a Coke machine beckons in red and white,
hut on a mountain journey. Night
covers its shining badge.