Night BloomSmoke and stars and stinging July sweat
Taint the night and stain our summer souls
While rusting towers form an urban net
To catch despair, as through the dark it rolls.
These crumbling tombstones taste of gray and grease
Gone stale, no longer oiling gangs nor bands -
What posse ever fought for city peace?
The future turns to dust within our hands.
But in the shadows blooms a darkling rose
Of life in death, and hope within despair.
As children of the city draw night close
And cloak themselves as queens and kings of air.
What elfin treasures haunt these city nights,
Cloaked in sparkling black to trap the lights?
copyright 11 July 2000
by Earle B. 'Glas' Durboraw; Birmingham.