Dark's great blanket draws around,
cloaking all in black.
Masking, hiding detail,
on fields, and streets, and paths.
The achitects fine brickwork,
cornerstones of grand design.
Are flat, and black, and lifeless,
plain, bereft of lines.
Dappled grey of floating clouds,
are shadows drifting by.
As pin-pricked light from tiny stars,
like freckles on the sky.
Heath Gunn
Heath Gunn
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dark-s-great-blanket/
