Watching the shadows pass
Upon the drab concrete;
Silhouettes in mirror`s glass,
Each shades movement is fleet.
The images move in silence.
Object are bending
The light, defiance;
Twilight, they`re rending.
Reflections made in the night;
Exposed by black ink,
Upon a page of white,
They slither and slink.
And though the shadows move - so discrete,
As they journey through the dim lit street;
Their casters bring sounds of pure elation,
As they leave the stations of their vocation.
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