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Mt. Wilson and Los Angeles

Approaching nightfall,
day scatters into the Moon,
Venus, Mars, countless stars.
I stood watching
to my mind not knowing.

The smog layer glows
with dancing night insects
clustering to faded images 
barely remembering the sunlight.
Infinite, clocking gridworks
shimmer, shine, and shudder
through the atmosphere.
   
Corpuscles tremble
their faces unable to speak
of the nuclear fire 
unable to hear
the other island universes
that surround them.
   
They scream
in a blinding mental radiance,
too real that it really isn't there.
But we continue to watch
with a glassy stare
that makes one wonder.

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Copyright © 1989 by Wataru Ebihara