The Dark

The moon is high and full. So there.
The clouds are silver below it.
Mountains glow, one long silhouette
Comprised of rising lines of lights

Delineating shining towns.
Parallel streams of cars that slide,
This way headlights, that way taillights,
Inscribe recursive loops on night.

All these little radiations,
Elaborate constellations,
Form no patterns, just perspectives.
It's too late to redeem the dark.