Home, Like Eye Strain
My home city happened so imperceptibly like eye strain;
starting with those clouds promising or threatening rain,
came the dusty dirt roads lined by blazing bougainvillea
and, chasing its shadow, my corolla grumbled like a gorilla.
The quaint cottages dotting and jolting up the countryside
ushered in the subdivisions, giant checkerboards miles wide;
these gave way to homesick parks and street-smart streets,
and here it is, my home city, its prodigal son it warmly greets !
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