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How like the dawn is evening's pale grey shade!
As drowsiness the waking and the waning
ushers, so does the half-light strike a chord
that for a turned head's moment of sustaining
is dawn and dusk: the flight of trees and birds
in pretty patterns on a drum-skin sky;
the sun's own absence one or other words
inflects to expectation, day or night.
But this is evening, dawn of the black rose,
resplendent as that of the white: the moon
the sun, the galaxies its spreading meadows,
or here, the glittering city in bloom! -
A new dawn, indeed: you will see them queue
at the nightspots, do what night's people do. |
