The colors are being left by the wind
Reflected off of buildings
I can hear the tremor on the bridge
Of the repeating explosions of color
The color of marvels in July air
It’s thick by the night by the fire
Almost like a Sunday
Turning on its axis in the room
But it’s Wednesday and the midnight wind
Is brisk tonight, twilight has gone
In a Chinese smile, turning against the flames
Pleasant with its very own soundtrack
The night being turned on by fire
That’s a tail of peacock or
Midnight closing upon us now.
Wuji Seshat 