See the green
The flickering gold
The rise of thunder
The days of old
The rumbling roar
Of passing tires
The bluish lamps
As the light expires
Seen from high
A thousand faces
A gloating sigh
The wind’s in places
From which the light
Runs and hides
On dark street corners
It does abide
Dirty paper
Skitters free
From underneath
An old oak tree
Alleys full of
Scattered junk
Water falling
Drip, drip, plunk
Yowling cats
Upon the walls
Crying babes
In the halls
Yapping dogs
In the yards
Buildings protected
By cynical guards
Sirens in
The distance ring
Ominous
Foreboding bring
Hear the gunshots
Loud and clear
Hear the screams
The passing fear
Commuters come
And then they go
Through spring and summer
Sleet and snow
Oblivious
The people stand
Talking of
Another land
Distant are they
From the places below
They ride the ride
To the top, you know
A blinking room
Inside closed doors
A ding, a ring
For you to come inside implores
Up you go
Up towards the sky
On metal wings
Away you fly
A place of green
A place of gray
Where sidewalks
Intermingling lay
Trees grow here
As well as flowers
People come here
To spend their hours
The stars wink
Out of sight
Fading into
The passing night
The city settles
Into a lull
Until the sun
Comes up in full
And still the blinking
Lights go on
A thousand faces
Before the dawn.
Back to Year 2000 Poems.
