When I saw the city in a fog –
the towers dimly there,
losing their heads in grayness –
I suddenly knew
the earth had dreamed us,
dreamed us all:
the weeds themselves
nosing out of slumber,
skyscrapers and radio antennae
blinking tired red eyes to heaven,
cars with muffled honks
probing the dark stillness with lights
like blind men’s outstretched arms;
and me, shivering in wet shoes
because the park’s damp privacy
was too inviting to refuse.
And when the earth finally awakens,
will we all collapse inside that head?
When I Saw The City In A Fog…
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