It is nighttime,
there is a row of red lights
shimmering like I’m squinting.
They sit below clouds
the black sky won’t let me see.
They sit on top of buildings
I have not been inside.
They sit in the middle of a city
I stand outside of in the day.
It is nighttime,
there is a row of red lights
and countless other things
I don’t have time to talk about.

© Carl Burkitt 2022