Roam the dark and empty streets.

Roam the dark and empty streets. 
Wet pavement.
Only a few lights still on.
Where, to feel the silence of the night
You must first feel the chaos of the day. 
Where wind whistles, 
And the lost stumble home, 
In those small hours of the morning 
When the sun has not yet woken
And all the drunks are sleeping, 
Where the early birds have not yet chirped.
To roam the dark and empty streets
The world feels forgotten and remembered at the same time.
Where you cannot help but tiptoe
Where all voices are hushed. 
And everything is still 
Except the flicker of a cat’s sleek body
Disappearing into the shadows.