A streak of light,
the clump of milk wagon horses feet,
a door slam.
It was twilight.
Light rays flooded the city,
Traffic began its bustle.
People started to work.
Morning had come.
I could not see the sun,
nor could I see the sky.
Tall buildings shut my view.
But I knew morning had come.
I envisioned a beautiful sunrise.
I thought of a clear blue sky.
I remembered pink fleecy clouds.
I made a sunrise of my own.
(1941)