At 2 am.
The evening had lasted far longer than than the hours
That numbered it, and as it eased over the hump
That was midnight it seemed as though time should
Slide forward more smoothly now, gliding across the
Numbers on the clock and arriving shortly at dawn.
Instead time slowed down, and the minutes crept slowly Along, and eventually the events that had held the evening
In a stranglehold came to a conclusion two hours after
Midnight, and it was time to go home.
Home, another world, another place, another time,
A destination behind the barrier of a sleeping city
And a dim glowing underbelly of unregulated lowlife
Behind curtained windows and in basements.
Home, to be reached by passing through a silent and
Unpopulated portal, lit with strip lights and reflective
Concrete walls, pillars supporting the low roof of layer
Upon layer upon layer of empty courtyards, with shadow
After shadow after shadow to hide the dangers of
Nightmare and robbery and violence.
The prompt today was provided by a series of photos of liminal spaces, and I chose a deserted multi-storey carpark.