Out, out, and out.

The bricked-up walls and fleet
heaving railway cars
sense fluttering shadows
creeping gleefully up their shivering skins.
The children's habitual night-lights are blown,
circuits chopped and shorted,
smoldering a smokey brown deafness.
No lights cast the shadows but they
scatter warm and sticking to metal
in spite of the wind,
in spite of every open window-
the shadows worry about the flaming lit houses,
they crash through the glimmering thin-wafer glass
to help the heat breathe out
and sigh,
cribbing harmony.