In A Hopper Painting

like early sunday morning
and those still dark windows

the quiet street, or in old
rooms for tourists, musty

chairs, the twang of sagged
bedsprings, there are never

enough lamps; or in that
singular dawn in Pennsylvania,

the deserted depot, factories
yet to fire the furnaces

and that moment of terrible
sky, retreating gray clouds

and you see it, out of picture,
how a streetlamp lends shadow.

                                                            Timothy Juhl ​