nothing beats exotic lights, street lamps, a fading sunset, stoic trees,
and the illuminated blanket of
darkness over it all.
i found a new route.
instead of going up and down
the path in my park, i have turned to the undulating roar of
smoke-fizzlin’ cars and the queer, bright, varied
lights of civilization. but all this against the
backdrop of a blue-filled sky and clouds,
and the dark,
comforting greens of grass and trees.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen,
yes, you heard my implication:
there is beauty in the suburbs.
The solitary glow of a streetlamp
amidst all has
always twisted my gut
just a little in appreciation
and empathy, for there lies a human being, and so there am I -
I am the street lamp.
Especially in this
cold,
stifling
weather,
each of us,
alone and surrounded by dark,
is just struggling to give
off some warm glow.
The street lamp is a
solitary figure,
but it glows on and on like an epic
lighthouse, giving hope for us all and reminding us of the human chains of struggle that link us together.