Electricity’s Second Century

Daylight slips away quietly
From the village that seems to take
No notice, other than to glow.

Even tiny clusters of homes
In small towns with few vehicles
Shoulder on into the evenings

Bravely, indifferently, these years,
All soldered to their global grids.
The gas station stays lit all night,

And someone like you will pull in,
Oblivious to the fading
Heyday of this infrastructure.

Daylight will glide back behind you,
The village barely note the dawn.