Past midnight, and, obscured by darkness,
I lie a slumbering landscape, fabric and flesh.
Still silence rises to deep steady thumping
For a moment, I think it’s my own heart pumping
But it’s drumbeats, not heartbeats,
Though they merge for a few beats,
’Til the sound fades away, the rhythm swept on
With more roads yet to course along.
The city may sleep, but this little beat
Is the engine of life driving on through the night
City blood’s pumped by such bass heartbeats,
Flowing through hills beaded by street lights
Orange sequins that pulse
Against blue hued sky,
Keeping our little world alive.