Solo
Blinking away caffeine minutes
And hours
With the deli owls
Sparse and sporadic
Savoring the solitude
Of the urban predawn
I watch winter
Convoluted and crystal
Rush the window
The radio unloads
Heavy metal
High volume, howling
Then
Upturned chairs
the busboy plays counterpoint
on a Kirby
Purposeful sips
Premeditated
Prolong the leisure
Hunching over the cup
I feel my midnight independence hobbled
by night’s loneliness
yet, nonetheless,
Satisfying
— Zumwalt (19 Feb 1979, Washington, DC)