CITY DREAM

The stories, sordid and old, building-engulfed,

Stumbling tuneless all day along the weary concrete,

Now pendulum-culled have stuttered into quiescence.

Grey-hymned evening, virgin-shadowed,

Prayer-mantles tired turrets and beaten streets.

The stroking stone floats a breathing spell

On lyric twilight; then with darkening plunge

Swims into night’s nebulous song:

The city sleeps,

And dreams

Of sequestered hills

And the green-leaf music

Of wind-filled trees.