The road winds like a persistent question
Through shadows and regions of light.
Huge mansions and run-down slums
Peer from either side.
Men stop to look up from their works
And women lean on doors
with children in their arms
As the morning light peeps
From behind dark, gaunt concrete giants.
Young green leaves sprout from the crevices
Of their weather beaten bodies
Little children finger the patterns of light
Carelessly painted on the paved street.
Ancient streetlamps sputter to life
When twilight comes in soft unheard steps.
For a while the aged daylight looks
At the hazed yellow halo around the lamps
And retires with slow tired footsteps.
Let us walk on that road, hand in hand
Through curtains of mist and cigarette smoke
And in the fading light, let us get lost.