The first lamp cut
through lonely
shade, where liquid
black is interlaid
With moon gold
chequered starlit
white, for even in
the dark is light,
The evening wore a
peaceful shroud,
where even whispers
were too loud
As shop signs
see-sawed in the
breeze, along the
lane a distant
sneeze
From someone
scuffling homeward
bound, their tip tap
rhythm on the ground
Receding off so
gradually, like ebb
tides of a tired
sea,
Until a silence
crystalline , moon
silver meadows
dipped...
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