It’s the middle of the night, and someone outside my window is laughing.
Someone above me is pounding nails in the wall at 2:40 a.m.
A car revs and revs, and then escapes and drowns in darkness.
Water drips. A dog howls. Wind slaps a tree, and it creaks.
2:42 a.m. and someone is still laughing.
Footsteps patter down the sidewalk, two voices conversing in the lamplight.
The windowpane pops at 2:45 a.m.
I arise, throw on a warm sash, go outside.
And listen to the music.