London Poem: Day 63

19 October

From my bedroom window
The night sky glows
Like squares on a chess board:
Spotlights here and there,
Standing solid in the deep,
Black pall of night.
In each square, there sits a face
Caught in a crude caricature
Of life, and of man.
We live in such a way as to believe
This is the way it should be.
But, there is no one way:
When they peer from their windows,
To see the lights glowing in the deep night,
They too long for what I have.
It’s hard to see that worry lives
Beyond tiny, gleaming lights.

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