The yellow of the street lamp streams
through the window,
which looks down on the
quiet, empty street.
The panels of the
oak floor
catch this light.
As do the folds of the
white sheet, which
hides crumpled shadows.
An ankle is caught
in the yellow light,
as it crosses the wooden floor,
with the slightest of creeks.
The sound of the door
shutting into the night
and the footsteps following
barely disturb the
still street, bathed
in yellow light.
