Reflecting remote swords, chilled in the calm
And liquid darkness, lights on the esplanade
Prolong the night’s edge downward all night long
To those whose nostrils ache with the strong darkness,
Those who in hunger press against the waters
Those without birth or death, to whom the cold
Ocean long laboring in her regal womb
Whispers a word of foam.
The lavish cars
Move westward in an eddy and dance of shadow
Under the dazed lamps on the lifeless shore.
Charles River Nocturne
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