After hours

After hours,
close the store,
kill the lights,
lock the door.

The walls and floors all come alive
as mice and rats and roaches thrive,
hunting for a midnight snack,
knowing no one's coming back.

Running over shelf and table,
as only tiny feet are able,
sink and counter marked with tracks
as they leap from bakery racks.

In the morning, not a trace
of vermin all around the place.