The streets are bright with yellow light that plays upon the stones

And courtyards in these halls of sin that sing in hollow tones;

The children fight in playful spite about the city park

I wait for when the violins begin their strains of dark.

For then the town will quiet down, the light be red and soft

And in that lull the ivory gulls will lift their wings aloft.

But now the crown of heav’n beats down and heats my fevered brow

My mind is thrall toshades ofdull and stays in chains for now.

Upon my head in somber dread the burning sidewalks lay

I tell my tale to no avail for aught to pass the day

And think instead of things I’ve said, the ship upon the sea;

She fills her sails with phantom wails and songs of things to be.