Night Bloom Smoke and stars and stinging July sweat Taint the night and stain our summer souls While rusting towers form an urban net To catch despair, as through the dark it rolls. These crumbling tombstones taste of gray and grease Gone stale, no longer oiling gangs nor bands - What posse ever fought for city peace? The future turns to dust within our hands. But in the shadows blooms a darkling rose Of life in death, and hope within despair. As children of the city draw night close And cloak themselves as queens and kings of air. What elfin treasures haunt these city nights, Cloaked in sparkling black to trap the lights? copyright 11 July 2000 by Earle B. 'Glas' Durboraw; Birmingham.