Written for a World Lit class at the College of DuPage, in 1970
It’s five o’clock and at the close of day
The streets are filled with people who are done
With work, and hurry quickly on their way
To catch a bus, a train, some transportation
That will get them to their various homes.
It’s spring, or so the calendar proclaims.
Snow, sleet, and slush the earth embalm
With white; the weather still old Winter claims.
To some the thought of home brings glad retreat
From all the din the city brings. Their trains
Transport them to suburbia where they meet
The glimpse of what the end of daylight reigns.
The sunset of another day has spread
It’s brilliant rays of light on earth’s white bed.
— Ginni Freshour