cars roll past the open window
the low-pitched hum of rubber
on asphalt
traffic is light, there have
been no buses
it is Labor Day and
the city is sleeping
in spite of the alarm, in the
car lot of the
nursing home across the
street
....it has been for hours
the late summer-breeze is
cool and dry
Kitty chortles from the
window
at the squirrel in the maple
her old bones creaking
still eager for the hunt
