The place under the wires

On this night with the crunch of snow underfoot and my heart in my ear I stand in the middle of the road, nothing but a daunting yellow now red from above. Mysterious steam rising from the alley just ten paces away. I wonder to myself if I could curl up and sleep in this place under the wires , would they see me? The yellow cabs and busy truckers and moms with kid's who have bright futures rushing past in the morning glory, a light, dusty pink in the sky. I don't believe they'd catch this alleycat on the corner. Not in the blink of an eye.