Coming into the city
They pass a hill ablaze with lights
As if the sky had tumbled down
And all the stars, still burning, lay
Upon the crumpled mound of velvet sky.
About the edges of the hill
The sparkling water teems with stars.
The freeway spreads its branches
Bridges and ramps like maypole ribbons
Poetry in concrete, frozen streamers
Intertwined like the fingers of their hands
In the warm dark of the car
Gliding softly through the glittering fields of fallen stars.
Through rain-streaked windows
The roadway lights, perched atop their tall poles
Distasted by the fog and mist
Wear nebulous halos studded with spears of light.
The lights scream silently at the sky. No sound
Can pierce their safe cocoon as they drive by.