Quitting Time...

The Blue-Grey
     color of Dusk
     as the crows descend
     to roost for the Night,
     filling the Trees
     to my left and my right
     as I walk, balancing
     on the rail
     as the River begins to shine
     in the Dark;
     I stop and raise my arms,
     with staff in hand,
     across from rail to rail
     and as one they
     take to Sky, circling once
     as they fly away,
     following the Wind
     to the next sheltered curve...
The Brass City gleams again,
     below me, light begins to glow,
     the new yellowish-amber
     incandescent street light,
     not lamps like the older ones
     I recall as a child,
     clam shaped or bell,
     giving off an almost sepia tone,
     you become an instant antique
     as you walk beneath, alone
     again, naturally,
     for who but this Fool,
     this Hatter,
     mad from the making
     is still searching 
     for the Radium Girls,
     wondering which bus
     did they take?...
                Jan. 28, 2015