Prelude to a "City of Night"
Through a veiled haze of,
scotch,
My eyes, with great reluctance,
reach,
Searching for a face amidst,
the crowd,
though I find none, not,
one,
My eyes reach others,
lonely,
Without the benefit of sharp,
sight,
I still perceive broken,
hearts,
Hearts torn with scars,
new ,
or old,
This is a city of night,
alone,
Beware, the darkness is not,
of the sun.
© 1976 Carl Erickson