Wednesday, September 07, 2011

Now, You Don't

This morning, in a doubled flash of sun:
from black glass windows on the Coliseum's
front; from elevators outside one
grey concrete parking structure; now, you see 'em
said a voice of orange light and steel.
Some harbinger of metro-revelation
helicopter-hovered to reveal
a secret hidden at the light rail station,
sunk in gleaming copper rails or hung
from metal trusses. Glass-roofed shelters framed
a view of urban vistas. Call it tame,
this metal wilderness? On every rung
of ladders left to stand against a wall
a bucket balances before a fall.

Collection available! Knocking from Inside

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