The Little Thief

Spying on a cannister
He tiptoes through the night
Across a field of energy
A high voltage switchyard to his right
And a black sea of coal and conveyer belts
A vast array of moving parts
He sneaks along the crumbling concrete
Under the conduit high above
He scurries past the rusting steel beams and bars
On a scavaging hunt
Sniffing his way across the grating
To steal one worker's lunch