Anonyme
At 3am the city
belongs to different people.
The cleaners who go
into office buildings
and return them to order
while everyone is asleep.
The nurses who walk
between beds in the dark,
reading numbers,
adjusting small things.
The ones who stay awake
because someone needs watching.
The ones who stay awake
because they can't stop watching.
The cab drivers going nowhere,
waiting for the light
to tell them which direction.
The bakers.
The security guards
who walk the same route every hour
and have memorized the building
in a way no architect intended.
I'm just awake.
I don't have a shift.
I don't have a reason
the way they have reasons.
I'm awake because my mind
keeps arriving at the same door
and then forgetting
what it came for.
But at 3am I feel
less alone in this.
The city is full of purpose.
All the quiet useful purpose
of people doing necessary things
without asking for recognition.
I watch from the window.
I make tea.
I feel like part of something,
briefly.
One more light on
in a city full of lights.