Streetlamp vultures, seeking their prey,
Gaze on impassively right through the day.
When night falls, they shed their unnatural light
As the traffic rolls on in its hesitant flight.
But in the small hours, when the traffic has gone,
And the vultures might nap now their strange light has shone,
‘Tween moonset and sunrise, the street signs convene,
Reviewing the traffic lights’ usage of green.
As, once more, the Sun’s rays may threaten intrusion,
The street signs retreat in a hasty conclusion
And replant themselves like well cared-for plants,
As the traffic resumes like a column of ants.
Stephen Tomkins
21 August 2018
Sydney