deepundergroundpoetry.com
Overcast
The evening’s overcast; the dour, thick light
Gives off a smell of dust, as if the homes
And tedious streets, around you, have resolved
Themselves into a pleasure beach by night;
And, in the darkness of sand dunes, the domes
Of churches and the houses’ roofs dissolved
And left you walking, lonely; with a bright,
Though misted, moon above you, as it roams...
The skies in search of something that the cold,
Autumnal season’s hidden out of sight
From you, despite your research in rare tomes
And hours in your study; if you’ve solved...
The problems of the world, this won’t outlast
The dour, thick, dusty light that’s overcast
Gives off a smell of dust, as if the homes
And tedious streets, around you, have resolved
Themselves into a pleasure beach by night;
And, in the darkness of sand dunes, the domes
Of churches and the houses’ roofs dissolved
And left you walking, lonely; with a bright,
Though misted, moon above you, as it roams...
The skies in search of something that the cold,
Autumnal season’s hidden out of sight
From you, despite your research in rare tomes
And hours in your study; if you’ve solved...
The problems of the world, this won’t outlast
The dour, thick, dusty light that’s overcast
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