The streets are small globes, ineffective
under the monochrome passing of
day to night, various greys and blacks...
the sky full of clouds scuttled by windstream
hard and fast enough to create a soundtrack
using rooftiles and the flotsam and jetsam
that float on the streets, the dry rivers of the city,.
Or are the streetlights ineffective because
they are distracted by past existences as
gasllamps glowing soft in union with the night
counterpoints that flicker as horses and
people carry the new century's hopes and dreams
into the flow of a monochrome passing of
day to night and in time back again.