All Night Long

by Ralph Angel

All night long the moon is wandering behind the clouds
and upon the water. All night the flickering

in shop windows across an empty street, in the small
café that won’t open for hours, if at all

today, where fish skins have yet to be swept
from the floors and the air is stale

with drink. All night long
the faint outlines of faces you’ve loved

and forgotten, and a bicycle
tied to a tree. A rat plops from a fence

and if you listen carefully you might hear
the first stirrings in the harbor

or the cry of the gulls
and catch yourself mumbling

and not know who in the world
you are talking to.