An amber glow gives shades of grey.
Cyclopean figures cast a tint
Of empty colour, in an empty street.
Where dark and vacant windows stare,
Autumnal trees their branches bare,
In quiet leaf-fall
Indian Summer in London.
Distant traffic softly coos 'Life!'
Still, even now, someone lives,
And goes about their business.
But here? This cold, dark, starless place,
That endlessly I could pace,
Never see another face,
Nor hear a human sound?
Here, where none save God and I remain?
-- Nikkie