Rainy Morning

My town at 5:30 in the morning is strange to me,
(I am not a "morning person")
It is even stranger when streaked with the watercolor
effect of a rain storm.
It is a sort of dark place, with a line of traffic,
Tail lights washing down the pavement like
Exhaust bleeding from the vehicles.
I can tell you how my town is in the middle of the day,
Sort of small, sort of the same from day to day,
I can even say that by 11 at night,
Our traffic signals are set so that green, red, yellow
Become flashing red and yellow, in the right spots,
So hopefully the speeding car won't blast through
And take out the other car which might reach
that intersection at the same time.
Getting back to it,
(I am so distractible, not a "morning person")
This early in the morning brings yet another
Endless train heading through town,
Causing a line of traffic to form in the turn lane,
And I discover this is the time for the shift change
At the prison.
And I wonder if the men in there are looking at the rain,
Silently waiting for dawn, or if it even really matters
When one is locked up and no way out.