after-image

Rain streaks the window of the late‑night tram, 

and I catch my reflection— 

half‑lit, half‑blurred, 

a passenger caught in between:

Cinema lights sputter, 

half the bulbs gone, 

yet the pavement glows enough 

to draw shadows forward, 

figures drifting past 

like fragments of a reel 

spliced mid‑story. 

The fairground stalls linger, 

shutters rattling in the wind, 

a lone vendor packs away 

the last cones of cotton candy— 

sweet air dissolving into night, 

traces of laughter 

cling to statued rides. 

Conflict leans into silence: 

not fists, nor shouts, 

but the pause of a step 

held too long at the corner, 

a whole city waiting 

for a stalled walker to move again. 

.