In the suburbs of gray houses,
The stars are out to rearrange-
Their mental twinkling up in the skies.
So solitary in the height of the houses,
Where music is played by a confused man!
And the verses are sung by a woman,
Whose pitched voice rises the hair of disgust,
In the back of neck;
And brings the house down to its knees.
All artists gather to perform their sensation.
They do not wait for those who are late.
Tears come down for the song they play;
The verses that no one knows where they originated.
There are lately silence which wander around.
Stars move away so the sun can come.
To see green trees reaching for rain in sun;
And they grow in all streets!
Poets write poems on sun daring skies!! …