simonhlilly

STILL VOIDED CITIES

How it is and how it seems:
The stuttered view,
Rain slanting in on warm southerlies
Grey, in tides, in waves,
A breath moist muttering
This first week of October,
(Shadows between green leaves
Turning purple,
Purple the ash keys, heavy
Beween wan, limp fingers
Counting the paling
Shortening days).
The engineer’s equations,
Crisp and sure:
The city walls
Disregarding season’s
Rise and fall.
Crystalline, always empty,
No shelter
( but a shell of concept),
Eternally still,
Void of heart
Where life slumps in
Sad blood rides,
Tides of melting
Soft flesh
Too swift to notice
This stark contrast-
Change and no change,
( the walls slow stain
With debris
Of swollen dreams
Fostered and forsworn
In these winded voids
And passageways),
These cities
Always silent, sublime,
Lit and shadowed
On a whim.
No place
For the slow dry arc,
The turning leaf
Falling in late sunlight
Lost trampled on asphalt
(The smell of new rain).