The Exchange

Midnight rings throughout the city
No one can be seen on the streets
Yet turn down the darkened alley
A man is standing-waiting-for something

A figure emerges from the shadows
The waiting man and the figure-
Exchange green for a mixture of brown and white
Standing still for a moment-they both listen

Sirens are getting louder by the block
The waiting man turns on his heels and runs
The shadow tries to imitate, but isn’t quick enough
Cuffs of iron are clasped on his wrists

The shadow tries to plea for his life
He offers something of value
He tells the sirens where the waiting man is
And where he got his stash

The sirens depart with the knowledge
Leaving the shadow in the cuffs
Cursing at what he’s done
He now knows that jail is his only haven.