City Light

By Peter Halstead

The curtains lift, electronically.
On the wall day shimmies,
Reflected from the forty floors
Of window panes next door,
A secondhand domain
Brought to me by cellophane,
But still, the lenses of a fly
Shattered to a winking eye
Of light, clicking on and off
Like the fluttering of a moth
Pursuing the indifferent light
For one last disappointing sight:
All the heaven they can handle
In the limbo of a candle,
Never failing to enthrall
Reflected on a hotel wall,
One dimension’s status
Enhanced with solar lattice,
Universal glories
Parroted by upper stories.

Four Seasons, NYC
February 16th, 2012

September 11th, 2021