Today's Napowrimo prompt asserts night is the time where strange things occur and no one is there to notice it. Here is a poem where this idea is applied.
sky lost the sun and/the yippings start/a dog will have its day--at night/patrolling the empty streets/forgotten husks beside the hovels/foodstuffs overturned/it's Garbage Day/dream of forgotten-but-still-good takeout box/leftovers left off the menu/knee deep in the neighbor's castoffs/snout rustling through/firm grip on both sides of the metal can/
the light goes on and a voice questions "who is there?"/the thing half-buried in the trash doesn't respond/even it is unaware of its genus and lineage/even it is unknown to itself/forever just a thing
climbing through feast after feast/searching for sustenance/
the light loses its nerve/a door announces its closing with a slip of whining and a muted thud/the feast remains set for consumption and just now three unbitten shipwrecked shrapnel sandwich bites are unearthed/
/dinner is served//
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