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