[the city breathes in]

the city breathes in
through open doors and windows
down a hall, a woman irons
her husband's shirt for work
a car hums by
[a weary face looks up]
is quickly forgotten
a ceiling fan drowns out
11:00 news, a baby wails
in the next apartment
an old man taps his left
foot to louis armstrong
his hat rests warmly on the
half-broken tv tray beside him
his wife is sleeping soundly
in the next room
a too young mother rocks
a feverish newborn in
the apartment above the
sleeping woman
a chair creaks somewhere
the lonesome cry echoes out
of the open door into the
sleepless street
green yellow red
reflecting on the shining
fender of the broken down car
parked on the curb,
warm with expectancy
the city breathes out