Under The Hues

From my chair by the window, there are many things I can see. Through the gap between the houses on the other side of the street, a glimpse of a harbour with small boats tugging at their moorings trying desperately to be free while silhouetted under the moonlight. Beyond the harbour lies the city with its urban sprawl. Thousands of stories about lives whom under its umbrella live. From their peaceful days and the ones carpeted under continuing squalls. The new and the old share the same spotlight. The yellow streetlights make poor imitation suns. Their protracted idea of no shadows only dims the light on some in the early morning hours. The streets are quiet and bare and for a few hours, cars lie asleep outside their homes. The story goes on and on under the hues of each day and lives change. Some for the better and some for the worse. Some call it a rat race while others call it their home. Regardless what we call it, within it, life goes on. 1 March 2009