You probably don’t wonder
What the lonely souls think
As they wander the dark city.
But even so
I could tell you they think
Of how the moon changes
Her face, every night
For her evening debut.
Or that they listen
And wait for those
Short moments when
Absolute silence makes
The world seems as if
it stopped breathing.
I could tell you that they
Analyze the construction of the shadows
Thinking, perhaps they too
Could disappear.

But most of all
Perhaps they wonder,
if they had a soul with which
to share these thoughts,
That maybe they wouldn’t exist.