Borrowed Light Poem by Philip Gross

Sunup in the financial quarter, sheer
mirrorglass empires lit each by each other's light

reflected. Cool moon-brightness, each
transaction stripping some heat out in passing it on:

value subtracted: that blue-silvery face
to my north-west now, too fiercely pale to look at—

a snowblinding dazzle, like the brilliance
that a climber as the blizzard eases might think

has been sent to show him where to go…