Those footfalls on the stairs when the night shift went home，

    the sunlight fanning through the dinosaur's rib cage

    the janitor's sneeze - we're asking questions

    we'd like to know more.

    The moth in the clock tower at city hall，

    the 200th generation to sleep there - we may banner the story

    across page one. And in Metro we're leading

    with the yawn that traveled city council chambers

    this morning， then slipped into the streets

    and wound through the city. The editorial page

    will decry the unaccountable boredom

    that overtook everyone around three in the afternoon.

    Features praises the slowness of moonlight

    making its way around the house， staying

    an hour in each a chair， the inertia

    of calendars not turned since winter.

    A watchman humming in the parking lot

    at Broad and Market - we have that -

    with a sidebar on the bronze glass

    of a whiskey bottle cracking into cheap jewels

    under his boots. A boy walking across the ball field

    an hour after the game - we're covering that silence.

    We have reporters working hard， we're getting

    to the bottom of all of it.