Lost In the City
Gazing unconsciously through smoked glass,
Encased ten flights above the asphalt,
Insignificant within this obscure tower.
Similar to a revelation, he soars majestically,
Circling on undercurrents beneath his span,
Waltzing on the wind in a leisurely minuet.
Bird of prey, what transports you to my world?
Concrete jungle with tainted air,
Nature vacant, paved with synthetic foliage.
Transport me to your stately mountains,
Liberate urgency upon sun-kissed outcrops,
Observing the world through an altered insight.
Copyright © Lena Pate | Year Posted 2009
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