San Francisco Graffiti
Gentle evening light
Top of the morning to you, topiary!
Taking pains not to paint the panes
Staring in rapt attention
And if your voice, a marvellous bird’s, quivers at my shoulder, in the night, and the snow shines with a silver light, warmed by a sudden ray, by your words? by Anna Akhmatova
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Looking out the window