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Fall- Credit: Daniele Colucci for Unsplash |
Lights
In all this city, grayed and grim,
it's never truly bright.
But dawn sends out a hint, a skim
of rose to cut the night.
At noon if clouds should, on a whim,
dissolve to wisps you might
discern blue sky through gauzy scrim;
blink once you'll miss the sight.
The dusk sends sun below the brim
of sky, the clouds take flight
as if they need a rest, they'll rim
the edges of the night.
The lamps are lit. They glow in dim
and eerie streets; they fight
the inky shadows, bleak and grim:
prove dark can't drive out light.
© Rebekah Hoeft 2022
