A LADY PREPARES
Seattle,
during twilight,
purrs with soft evening noises;
traffic lights suddenly brilliant,
blinking;
headlights in chrome grills
snapping on;
street lights buzzing
just before they bathe the ground
with amber incandescence;
Superferries
gliding through darkening water
flicking on their deck lights.
Then for a few golden moments
all the western windows catch fire,
and the shimmering orange icons
captured coldly
on the urban faces of glass,
silently lick at the ebony loins
of the night.
A city of shadows,
perching on those seven hills,
turns on,
and the deep saltwater bay at its feet
becomes a vast mirror
reflecting
the garishly-lit steel canyons
of its unique skyline.
Glenn Buttkus 1987
1 comment:
Kind of interesting for those stalwart few who might be paying attention, or who care, that the poem, SEATTLE, written in the early 60's, is quite different than this one; perhaps demonstrating how our writing styles do change as we mellow and age and learn a couple new words.
Butch
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