Night Watch on the Timber

I leaned back into the deep crevice of the utility pole as night settled over the alley. The wood holds a faint warmth beneath its rough, resin-stained bark. Above the tiny shell in the hollow, I spotted a loose strand of dried jute twine snagged in a jagged splinter. I worked it free, winding the coarse fiber into a snug brace between my knee and the timber wall. Sighted through the vertical fissure, the curb and asphalt below lie quiet under the dark.