{"id":42841,"date":"2017-08-06T08:17:18","date_gmt":"2017-08-06T12:17:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=42841"},"modified":"2017-08-06T08:17:18","modified_gmt":"2017-08-06T12:17:18","slug":"hour-twenty-four-the-city-sleeps","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2017\/08\/hour-twenty-four-the-city-sleeps\/","title":{"rendered":"Hour Twenty four   The city sleeps"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>24<br \/>\nThe City Sleeps<br \/>\nby Paul Robert Sanford<\/p>\n<p>Traffic on Brush Street has slowed<br \/>\nfrom 2000 an hour at rush hour<br \/>\nto a speeding car every few minutes.<br \/>\nA bus goes past on its way to the Greyhound Station<\/p>\n<p>The pointed evergreens are a black shadow against a charcoal sky.<br \/>\nIn the federal building&#8217;s twin towers  a few floors are lit,<br \/>\nprobably some cleaning crews,<br \/>\nalthough it could be the government at work.<br \/>\nIt&#8217;s 8 am in Washington DC.<br \/>\nMy busy intersection has three tall streetlights<br \/>\nthat serve as my nightlight.]<br \/>\nIn their glare a lone pedestrian crosses the street,<br \/>\ncrossing into shadow and out of sight.<br \/>\nThe bars are closed.<br \/>\nHours ago a flock of happy young people walked<br \/>\nalong the deserted streets on their way home from the club.<br \/>\nMy neighbors have their porch lights on<br \/>\nwhile the rest of the house sleeps.<br \/>\nParked cars wait patiently at both curbs,<br \/>\nhoping not to get run into by some drunk<br \/>\nconfused by the lane change.<br \/>\nIn the distance the red lights atop the loading cranes<br \/>\nat the waterfrdont blink and dance.<br \/>\nItd is a good time to have a warm bed to retreat into.<br \/>\nA lonely time to be out in the sleeping city.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>24 The City Sleeps by Paul Robert Sanford Traffic on Brush Street has slowed from 2000 an hour at rush hour to a speeding car every few minutes. A bus goes past on its way to the Greyhound Station The pointed evergreens are a black&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":736,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-42841","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/42841","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/736"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=42841"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/42841\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":42969,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/42841\/revisions\/42969"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=42841"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=42841"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=42841"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}