Twinkly bulbs and shifting figures.
Swift thinking of pointing fingers.
Up the attic in an old black box.
Laid in order one two blocks.
Around the corner of a corner.
Sat a baggage with no owner.
Old racks bumming with dusty tops.
Empty streets with half closed shops.
Behind the counter with a cup of coffee.
It was half full, and was half empty.
A confined room with no open window.
One stone bed and a wooden pillow.