Thanks for posting the Swinburne, Carl, and glad you enjoyed the others.
Here's one from p. 52 of Matthew Buckley Smith's Dirge for an Imaginary World (winner of the 2011 Able Muse Book Award):
When It Happens
When it happens, nobody seems to notice.
Someone coughs and hammers a nail through drywall.
Boys fling sticks at birds while the church bells tattle.
Nightfall approaches.
When it happens, dog walkers trail their shadows,
Saving their sacks of waste through the tattered sunset.
Whitened breaths come loose into burnt October,
Heady as incense.
Someone falters, pushing a drowsy infant
Up the sidewalk, touched by a breeze from childhood
Warm against the cheek as a shower in springtime,
Full of misgiving...
Just perfumed exhaust from a neighbor's laundry,
Nothing special, nothing to tell the other
Babysitters after the playground's stumbled
Into the darkness.
When it happens, all of the words are taken.
Those you might have called on, that could have helped you,
Rattle in the gutter on flyers and leaflets
Selling you something.
Lamps supply each row house's upper windows
Heat enough and light to pretend it's morning.
Night's a looking glass in the fragile instant
No one is looking.
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