​On the Urbanization of Souls

Heartbeats match the same general description,
But when a group of misfits has disbanded
Leaving only sparks of light dancing in every direction
Finding their way toward cities great and small,
When all the celebrities are dead
And all the venues closed...
I have an amulet to propel me into the spring
That comes after an eternal winter
White as Death and cold as Hell.
Then maybe, just maybe
Summer will show its pock-marked face
And I will find myself in a city too,
Where I can explore endless cul de sacs and mews
And finally rest beneath a great ginkgo tree,
Leaves falling around me as if to reassure me
That I am no longer alone.