spring suns rise

streetlight blurs in the mist
of an early spring morn
such as switched blades of grass
bend under its weight
and wherein it can't uphold itself
rolls down like scattered prison bars
equally undeterred by uncertainty
find themselves alone together
amassing into one
chilled in the rolling plumes
that conquer the streets around
orange incandescent glows
breaking through, sure for once
the suns have all found new skies
atop black aluminum
and those spaces are just as infinite