Light Pollution

When it’s summertime at night in Hyde Park one walks alone.
So I, alone, walk under wind and dark and all things free
breathing warm air. There’s a smog around London now
Keeps it dusk. Makes day dirty, makes morning dusty
makes it all glow in Hyde Park like a swan apart from swans
on a lake not shining. A swan sharp like blue thrown white
out of grayscale lost in exposed dusky night. Like a swan
that moves through clouds that should hover
to look clean into your face. Not to wonder but to
demand explanation, gentle commander. In careful
appraisal, a swan that slides right into your quiet night
like a held hand that cannot hold you but holds you.
This is Not London, made beautiful by London, making
London beautiful. This looks right into grayed eyes
And speckles unexpected phosphorescence into haze.
I want to stay. I like your quiet questions.
I like your laughing eyes, still and drifting.
I like Hyde Park when I’m alone in the glow.


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