Night in the City

I hear them pass by the wall of my garden-

The swift whisper of silk,

And laughter-

Tinkling like the wind-bells on the shadowy terrace,

Tinkling and calling.

Their lanterns form a necklace

Of gems,

Ellen Margaret Fanson

Low-strung across the dusk.

Their laughter dies away past the wall of my garden.

In the willow

The echo lingers-

The echo of laughter, failing

Into sudden weariness.