Twilight on Sixth Avenue at Ninth Street

Charles G.D. Roberts

Over the tops of the houses
        Twilight and sunset meet.
    The green, diaphanous dusk
        Sinks to the eager street.

    Astray in the tangle of roofs
        Wanders a wind of June.
    The dial shines in the clock-tower
        Like the face of a strange-scrawled moon.

    The narrowing lines of the houses
      Palely begin to gleam,
  And the hurrying crowds fade softly
      Like an army in a dream.

  Above the vanishing faces
      A phantom train flares on
  With a voice that shakes the shadows, —
      Diminishes, and is gone.

  And I walk with the journeying throng
      In such a solitude
  As where a lonely ocean
      Washes a lonely wood.

New York is one of the most poetically mapped cities on earth.