Like premonitions, lightning fields
shudder and convulse in cloud,
raindrops interlock with city
glitz in fleeting arabesques;
streets are floodlit sheets with neon
smears and streaks of maquillage;
needles tremulous with beads,
pines relax their bristled stance;
cypresses exude dark frankincense...
Tingling with brisk massage,
tired facades remove their masks;
statue-heroes become young,
bronze gleaming obsidian;
its patina x-rayed by skies,
wavering above coarse stone,
a mirage to mesmerise,
marble comes into its own.
*
Woe separates the now from then,
the rose and gold of autumns gone;
the air sags with humidity,
rain falls limp and desultory;
the heavens flicker and grow dim;
lamps are few and far between.