Before the Sun

Early morning, took my walk
Before the rising sun.
On the rain-slicked city streets,
I was the only one.

Not another soul in sight,
The sidewalks all for me,
Which felt like post-Apocalypse
And I a refugee.

It isn’t very often
That Manhattan seems so stark,
Accentuated by the rain,
The wind, the hour, the dark.

At least, on several corners,
Glowed an all-night deli’s light,
Assuring me, despite the void,
That things would be all right.