Lisbon winter night

Lisbon Winter Night

From my hotel window I see, deep down
in the city’s canyon, a cobble stone river
cars are moored to its banks; from under
one a cat runs across to the bins, a squeal
as it catches its wretched prey.

From he opposite edifice a few shards
of light give succour to the dying and to
those who cannot sleep that radiance too
fades as night progresses towards dawn,
what’s left is the hum of enduring silence.