Cars Pass Over Me Sleeping Poem by Cigar Aficionado

I huddle from the wind it stings hard rain
the front door of this hotel room
stays open.
Bed of stone birds at play all around me
lifting legs to wash my face
here in the cold.
Above the sky it rumbles day and night
down falls the dust into my mouth
sting my two green eyes.
Blankets past editions many days long
since no special page for
sleeps rehearsal.
Horns interrupt my neighbors sleeping fumes
thier breath I pray this bridge
to keep me safe.