A lonely soul walks along
the grey street,
the sky a dim grey-green
color of silent sickness
as the slow drizzle beats a soft
ominous drumbeat onto the
barren pavement,
giving it sound,
which isn't its own.
Dingy lights shine feebly
through layers of dust
coating panes of glass,
vast surreal windows
crusted thick with flyers
like flaking paint
telling a history
of events long past:
concerts, touching souls
meetings of concerned people
or just another time.
One shoplight hints
at a more inviting place.
The figure opens a door
and is enveloped
by secure warmth
and hospitable comfort.
The door silently closes
protecting the cheer inside
from the harsh reality outside.
The gloom is once again
lost in its own world.
Lawrence R. Daffner, 1/93