The Corner Across The Aisle

Below the blue sky
Partly veiled by clouds
The storks hurried home 
Below them the pigeons followed 
And below them the city gleamed,
Sprawling and intimidating.
Such was the morning sight 
Such was the afternoon
Eternal and impregnable.
Like one feels when all is rosy,
When one is sunk in oblivion.
When the colour altered,
The blue disappeared behind grey
And soon the grey behind black.
The city below surrendered its gleam
The anxious residents hurried home.
It was a downpour outside
It was a sight of splatters
On the glass now cleansed
The gloom and the splatters
Soon concealed the world outside
Slipping slowly into dusk
Turned the glass a mirror
In which the self was seen
Then the corner across the aisle
Where the heart of oblivion resides.