On the Train Home
Skyscrapers tumble backwards
Like grey memories.
Yellow lights, green lights, white lights
Blend lightly into the mix of stars
In the sky
In the windows.
Goodbye, old city,
Whose buildings duck back like dominos
With the current;
Goodbye, great alloy –
Of green and blue, red and yellow
Violet and grey, black and white,
I shall not forget your face
And your intimate stone grasp,
Which squeezes like a child for its father.
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