waking slowly

he sits
as the chimes
softly play
predawn serenades
the coffee
untouched
as the sky turns
to steel
over the buildings
around him

half dressed
half awake
half consumed
by the silence
punctuated
by snatches
of birdsong
and the rumble
of idling cars
calling for the sun.

lost in thought
in translation
in transition
in trepidation
staring out at
the concrete maze
a labyrinth of
winding roads
that lead everywhere
but where he wishes.

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