everydayness

a plastic moon
hangs outside the balcony.
i look at it through nets
that used to have strings
of light on it once.
in the distance
an ambulance rushes.
it won't make it in time.

the fragrance of molten plastic
will have lost its sting
by morning.
water will drip
in patient droplets
from the overhead balcony
like any other day.
and dead cigarettes
will be swept away.
this will be another story
forgotten
in the traffic of everyday life
and the day's work
will go on
as it must.