5The ancient poets wrote about
The silver peaks of snow
And how the stars stay up all night
And how the rivers flow.
Well of this is glorious
And wonderful and bright
But I see only streetlight glow
When I look out at night.
There's some strange joy in sidewalk blocks
In endless nightlight lines
Electric haze and cardboard walls
In plastic rows of signs.
There is no silence nowadays
Just constant motor roar
There are no stars, there is no rain
There is no forest floor.
There's only city, city light
Which blasts and blinds the eye
There are no clouds or windy seas
There are no tears to cry.
The modern poet wishes for
The tangled rows of trees
The bumblebees and hummingbirds
The wistful morning breeze.
There is no silence nowadays
There's just inhuman hum
There is no darkness nowadays
With all our senses numb.
I find myself on summer eves
When they grow loud and bright
Just thinking on the world we lost
It's better like this—
Right?