It Is As Then Poem by Rich Harney

It is as then
in the lonely city
among the unsmiling faces
casting their grey hope around
I cast myself upon
the beaten ground.
A deep weight in my heart,
beating barely
and opened such a wee, my eyes,
Yet squint enough to see the vast distinction,
The air, stars, the sky,
I reach a bewildered hand
That love might prevail
As sea upon the sand.
And there, just there
Over the heart horizon
A flickering
Only a slight breeze
The birds see it and sing.