New Draft: In the Dark of the City

New working draft. It's interesting - when I write about something that turns to nature, I inevitably return to Kentucky (where I spent nearly 10 years), or to Long Island and the ocean where I grew up. And my distaste for the cramped, loud, too-much of the city always shines through. I think this one will be salvageable with some work.

In the Dark of the City

The dark has come and eaten its fill
of my familiar life. The lawn
is an oildark sea of strangeness,

and the street beyond a dimlit river
patrolled by strangers ensconced in steel
and glass. Even the safe corners

of my home are stained with tarry night,
it saps the warmth from my kitchen, seethes
under my bed waiting to slip beneath

the blankets and curl behind my knees,
a faithful hound. In the city,
the dark is thicker, stars that shone bold

in the vastness over horse farms and cows
are become shy friction sparks between
the layers of abandonment cloaking the world.