You Move the City

Your walking shifts the pattern of the street,
Invents the view, refashions and refines
The old horizons, so their edges meet
In several places, forming several lines.
You move the city as a sporting feat
And leave us with these motley, split designs.

Mosaic, serpentine, and wholly bright,
The new designs seem carelessly displayed
And aimlessly devised, too swiftly made.
The stars, which used to shine a stylish white,
Have darkened with the other parts of night.
The sun, until this morning, never swayed
Or shivered. Still, what can we do? Upbraid
You for this darkness, blame you for this light?