Freshly washed road sparkling with neon,
of which the end is unknown.
The earthy smell enters my lungs,
as I exhale and loosen my stiff arms.
Cold breeze dances on my warm skin,
making every single hair stand in unison.
To praise autumn and the safe comfort
of slanted houses as I leave footsteps in the night.
Rugged ground, bumps under my feet,
now too familiar were once too new.
Rustling trees and crushing leaves.
The silence is too loud yet calm.
Bright metal redlights glowing faintly,
the road lies empty with paused time.
The Grangegorman clocktower’s hands,
were brand new in 1816, now lie dead.
Snail’s shells like painted pebbles,
tiny and neatly compact.
Stars twinkling like distant streetlights
of a city hidden in vast black space.
Grey clouds float around Jupiter.
Small droplets touch my face,
sprinkling out of the abyss.
Years ago, a place unfamiliar,
now cozy and smells like home.
Shortcuts and sophisticated crosswalks.
Faces known and secrets discovered.
Delicious aroma from The Barbers Bar
Green Luas screams and luxury cars.
I stand in solitude, feeling safe,
in the tall building’s embrace.
Walls crooked with mossy plants,
a long life and yet stands firm.
Watching over many other lives,
of wanderers like myself.
An aeroplane flies over my head.
I notice the black cat’s golden eyes,
staring into my pleased soul.
She wanders around at night
while her red collar jingles.
Now I belong where I stand.