“Out of the night you burn, Manhattan, In a vesture of gold-- Spun of innumerable arcs, Flaring and multiplying-- Gold at the uttermost circles fading Into the tenderest hint of jade, Or fusing in tremulous twilight blues, Robing the far-flung offices, Scintillant-storied, forking flame, Or soaring to luminous amethyst Over the steeples aureoled.” NightNew YorkOfficeGoldCirclesFlamesTwilightSoarHintsManhattanLuminousArcsFadingSpunJadeMultiplyingSteeplesAmethyst Book:The Ghetto, and Other Poems Source: The Ghetto, and Other Poems
“Night calls to the sandhills and gathers them under her. She pushes away cities because their sharp lights hurt her soft breast. Even candles make a sore place when they stick in the night.” LightNightHurtCitiesSticksBreastsCandle Book:Sun-up, and Other Poems Source: Sun-up, and Other Poems
