Loveliest London

Cobblestone beneath my feet,
click, clock, clop.
Brown, red, gray, black,
white, and dapple.
Who knew stone could have so much variation?
The sadly neglected hues of sediment show brightest
light in the dark night.
This dark hour when I walk through lovely London,
past glass picture frames where artful silhouettes
in different poses remain frozen behind passion colored backgrounds.
But from your window,
I see white and your candle burning
in my window on hills that grew from bones
of the dead bundle-carrying shadows
carry salt and memories.
Look at the Nightingale as she flies,
the loveliest of all creatures.