Winter Nights, Then and Now.

with thanks- Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash

Every night the horns cut through the cold.

The dogs wailed after the trains, joined

By a jackal or fox or another dog in turn,

Making distance grow.

Someone passed by with a cough

And you tried to hear their whispers

Though it never was quite enough.

The lights from the factory jeeps sliced

Through the glass panes of the window

Like long yellow knives in a Gotham comic

And almost four decades past, still,

Howls, knives, cars, yellow

But, let me assure you, it ain’t no flick.