First Stars, Last Light

 
He knew the night would soon arrive:
The turquoise-honey glow, first stars
Above the freeways full of cars,
The downtown towers lit, alive

With golden bustle. And he knew
That wintertime would soon arrive:
Lamps on each afternoon by five,
Leaf-freeing gusts and sleet, blue

Cold sun, the Christmas music on
In elevators. And he knew
Death strikes—at Mom now. Then at you,
Him, everyone. So every dawn

He prays for breath and life. When gone,
Who knows? He knows he’s still alive,
That death might happen during drive
Or dance, with Christmas music on.

 

 

 

Flickering

 
Used car lots, flicker-light motels, and mini-marts,
Shops hawking everything from beer to auto parts;
At bus stop no one now except stray shopping carts.
But rent stays low here; there—“School of New Fine Arts,”
Café, and nightclub. Here, ten famous bands got starts—
Beside the mini-marts, barbed-wired lots, and dim-lit parks.
Before fame’s conflagration starts—the tiny sparks.

 

 

 

David D. Horowitz founded and manages Rose Alley Press, which to date has published 16 books. Fourteen of these are poetry collections, including his own latest, Cathedral and Highrise (2015). His poems have been published in numerous journals, including The New Formalist, The Lyric, Candelabrum, The Smoking Poet, and Quill and Parchment, and his essays regularly appear in the online journal Exterminating Angel. David lives and works in Seattle, where he frequently organizes and hosts readings. His website is www.rosealleypress.com.

Photo of city skyline at night courtesy Pixabay.

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