Stars spark from a deeping, clear, blue winter sky as
the moon prepares to enter the scene, stage left.
A breeze sweeps away the last blushes of sunlight and
evening caroling-bells, ring like wind-chimes.
The evening chill makes students walking back from
classes seem to walk a little closer for warmth.
Students, huddled to nail down evening plans seem to smoke,
like the exhaust of cars exiting campus in bumper to bumper traffic.
Wet sidewalks, like dark and winding mirrors, twist reality, inverting and reflecting lights - bending them into pointing the way home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very good imagery I felt I was there too. A good 5*