The lights are blurred

The lights are blurred by
the fog -
or my eyes trick me.

Cabs splashing
black varnish puddles
on the street.

We all know umbrellas are useless
when it gets so windy

We all know umbrellas are harmful
when it is about you
wanting to get soaked in the rain.

Precisely.

The night lies so
damn glossy
on the Royal Mile.

The wet cobbles
are black crystals.

Lights blurred,
cooking smells
from every corner.

Engulfed by majestic buildings and
their shadows,

I am part
of all this.

A glossy black thing
reflected on the street.