Warm Nights

The warm nights

Have been lonely and the

Empty parking lot is just

A mirror held

On the other side of a window

That may as well be a wall.

I've watched

The midnight rain shoot down,

Drowning the plants that

Defy comfortability by

Nestling in the cracks of

The asphalt. 

They live on,

Unphased, but I don't feel

So lucky.

The warm nights are better

When a barrier doesn't

Keep us away

From wasting our time

In the burning sun.