A sand truck drives down a hill empty,
grainy darkness covers the rust
and splatters of paint that have adorned
the metallic frame for three decades.
An unnoticed Tuesday sunset
brings the streets to a tired hush,
and only the falling sound of pebbles
is heard as they trickle
from the sandy truck bed.
As it drives out of sight
shadows dart its way
and leap upon the cold vertical rails.
They hang as the truck speeds around
the corner; they laugh.
Their rags quietly flutter in the wind,
barefoot and proud they look down
at the many lights of the hills
they’ve just conquered.