The incandescent fragrance of lilacs
hangs in the breeze, enhancing
silence, accentuating the freedom
of the sleeping city at 3 a.m.
A certain stillness, cars rest in suburban
driveways; toxic fumes dampened,
leaving little to blatantly disrupt the
balance of a slightly-starry night.
Restless romantics lay half-awake, alive
and questioning all likely answers
slipping through the window. For
just a while we breathe and sleep.