The radio is softly playing
And late-stayers are some working,
Some bumming, boldly displaying
No fear of darkness lurking.
No one comes and no one leaves
As daylight silently removes
Its disregarded presence. Then conceives
Another world with other grooves
As each one
Carries on with confidence
Which used to set together with the sun.
Now lamps have their permanence
And time is created
To work, when we were meant
To rest; but time and light are such-wise related
Though no one asked from Nature her consent.
No comments:
Post a Comment