Imagine a moment when the ordinary rush of life suddenly cuts out. The speaker hears it as the streets themselves running, then stopping completely. Outside the window, everything goes dark like an eclipse, and all that remains is awe—a suspended, breath-held wonder. After a tense pause, the boldest person creeps out from hiding to check if time itself has survived the hush. What they find is not disaster but a quiet, almost domestic miracle: Nature wearing an opal apron, busy mixing fresher air, as if the world has been rinsed clean and renewed. The poem catches that rare, eerie stillness when the everyday world pauses, and we’re left feeling small and expectant, sensing something fragile and new. It’s a mood of whispered awe and the tingle of a fresh beginning.
It sounded as if the Streets were running — Summary
It sounded as if the Streets were running And then -- the Streets stood still -- Eclipse -- was all we could see at the Window And Awe -- was all we could feel.
By and by -- the boldest stole out of his Covert To see if Time was there -- Nature was in an Opal Apron, Mixing fresher Air.