sonnet

The night is dim
When the moon shines
There nothing left on the sidewalk, except for lines
There I see him, I stare at him
So tall and slim
I could almost see his spines
He turns around and gives me signs
I look down on his limb

And ask him why?
You said goodbye
He turned around
And hid his face
With a frown
And left the place, without a trace