Little City

Sprawled over grasslands yellow and desolate Peppered across the breadth of ancient mesa Who hides her creeks as they pass obscurely along Subtle like cracks in an egg With the first hint of dawn she is yawning, stretching her arms Lights dispatching here and there as the morning fog descends Plenty of days have crossed her over Summer and winters come and go unnoticed heartbeats The same streets we ran with untied shoes And sped down hoarse of reckless dreams Lead us by the hands to old brick homes Where as always we are held by our little city