Great, heavy drapes of sky were flung wide tonight,
Laying bare a broad canvas, swept
With tangerine fire
And a thousand half-attempts at flame-soaked cloud
In strokes that swirled and dabbed and scratched and bubbled and scudded.
Smoke-blue mountains
With snowy caps
Rose pale and clear in the light,
Suddenly visible;
A stretch of urban grey
Became a blazing panorama beyond the windows of the Skytrain,
In whose vinyl seats
Slumped hundreds of dull-eyed commuters in home-bound stupor,
Oblivious -
Too weary to wonder;
Used to the grey.
4 comments:
i feel like i was there :)
There's just something about good poetry I really do love. This poem would be included. :)
Wow! I can see it clearly.
I love it! Gerald Manley Hopkins would probably love it too. :-)
Post a Comment