The Lights

You plead with me,

about the lights,

those which soon begin to blur

crimson tones with

abyssal blues.

This warmth that skims edges of the sky

must interest you so much,

though we are immersed

within it daily.

Chatter brims within

windows lining the street

in countless rows,

each harboring a family,

and an endless capacity for love.

I wonder during our stroll

if that’s what you truly long for,

not those perpetually burning orbs

scattered about this town.

Our only distraction it seems lies

among a collective

of emerald shades

waging their own mute blitzkrieg

against heated streaks

of radiant orange.

As the alternate hues

battle for a dominance

that can never be achieved,

there lies a tradition of exclusivity

as stubborn as human nature

that will never be broken.

Taking your hand,

I turn us toward a future

predetermined by those

who will never know

the humility of finding

solace in these lights.

Caitlin Morrissey