I.

This night - a thing of beauty, really.
The warm air invites a stroll with a delicate force
that I find irresistible.  I yield to it, and walk.

II.

I struggle to gain the roof -
a railing, ill-placed, affords me an awning
which in turn puts me over a wall, and into a stairwell.
From this new height, I consider the summer stars.

III.

I yield the roof as once more
I seek the pleasure of the stroll.
Away from the lights of the conquered building,
I find the sky glowing with the subtle smoke of the Milky Way.

IV.

I slide in and out of shadow.
The patrol car behind me turns to pursue
the man at the scene of the crime,
knowing only that I've come, and ignorant of my departure.

V.

The English Grade affords a task for my lungs
as the night, so smooth before, rasps harsh.
But as the quiet dark of my sanctuary surrounds,
calm returns,
and I once more contemplate the stars.