The sky was so bright after the rain
that everyone below its emptied bowl
was rendered colour blind by fallen
luminescence. The white gulls became black
wounds punctured through it and night,
through them, seemed hidden inside day.

In the streets, barely shaken dry, all the best
puddles were mirrors and the figures about
the city were shining, like precious metals
uncovered from a billion years encased
in deep rock—their latent brilliance revealed
at last and rivalling the stars.