The sounds of the night
reverberate through the streets.
Sirens,
exhaust from worn-out mufflers;
footsteps,
solitary,
breaking through the cloud cover
to tread the walks.
All without glimpse of broken globe
or spangled lights
to tell the face of the blue clad man.
And as the last engine revs
to the dying whisper of gravel's wind,
only the captain of the watch
can tell which sound matters most.
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