69 292
nine poems
69
Beneath A CityWith
No Stars
Valley of sunburnt overripe blackberries
a black cross flapping
where flat tree tops are accurately trimmed;
All I could hear was the sound of an ocean
breathing out
nothing breathing in.
If I’m ever to see these stars
in a night sky as they truly should be seen;
I’d stand hear at these cliff-tops breathing in the drifting
salt drops,
staring into this majesty of light.
Yet in my cityscape I can’t see these stars
shining like chariots carrying angels across yellow moons.
The light has dimmed in my city
like curtains drawn on a bright afternoon,
with the occasional peep of daylight.