Gyros on Parade

On parade, for all to see,
gyros and their filaments,
are coloured, different light.

Low lights, of the neon kind,
flicker alternating strobes,
on parade, for all to see,

a hard right on Memory Drive,
past the craftwork and its stitches;
gyros and their filaments.

Everything is sugar sweet,
only for a moment’s time, the shades
are coloured, different light.