Me?

Oh, I’m still sitting here at the 

Nighthawk Café

Drinking my java black

Hoping for the night to be endless

For there is that certain something

In a café at night

That exists there

And only there

The wooshing sound from the

Ventilation

The coffee machine coughing

The sound of the shoes touching that carpet

It is dark outside, but in here it’s

Light

Always safe and warm

Inside the

Nighthawk Café