Night, in a Frontier Town

The clocks in town all chime nine,
Ringing through fog rising off the river
And enveloping upper Broadway.

Sunset once again painted the west
In shades of salmon and creamsicle,
But now there is just a starless, darkening sky.

A lone planet pierces through the mist;
A gaurdian of the cosmos.

The chimes fade,
And the streets of Saranac Lake are left
With the muted sounds
Of voices, traffic, and music:
Still a frontier town, in 2009.