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
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