Crowds rush and push
filing past a myriad useless things
slack-jawed or with furrowed brow
in search of some heart’s desire
that cannot be found amid the tinsel-bound displays.
Beyond the lights and waves of torrid heat
the prowling cats and homing birds
beyond the clouds that billow
sailing on the mild wind from the west
in the timeless dark of the over-arching sky
the stars that saw the first green shoots appear
mourn the passing of those raw and reverent times
blink in the neon glare and look away
Jane Dougherty Writes 