Through City and Soil

A lone sentinel stands watch at the corner of the fence,

striped face in shadow.

Perching there,

the little sneakster gives me a long stare

and I gaze back,

aware that we are kindred spirits.

I too am lurking in the night,

wandering through the streets

sifting through garbage for snacks and gold,

or else winding through the gardens

wondering what more my story could hold,

me and my rat friends

who scamper softly through city and soil.