The all night drunk presses his purpled face
against the window of a still closed café,
its tables stacked with chairs, the postman
gives him a wide berth and posts a letter
—wrong name, right address—through a brass slip,
a motorist catches his reflection in a shop display,
the whole shebang backlit by sunrise, some dogs
decide to meet, same time same place, next week,
the undiscovered body in an alley lets a hand slap
against the side of a skip, startling the silence, doors
unlock here and there, this is the day yesterday
promised, a robin tries out a new tune, the notes
falling on deaf ears, shadows run ahead like unleashed
pets, from a satellite the street appears no different
than a million others, as the lens zooms back,
and again the planet turns bluegreen like an open eye.