My Environs
My environs, filled with sirens,
Rarely seems serene.
Add some snow plows to the mix
And picture what I mean.
Yes, it’s gritty in the city
But, in years gone by,
There was vibrancy as well,
A permanent supply.
Now the flavor I’d once savor
Packed its bags and left,
While we who stayed just hear the noise
And shake our heads, bereft.
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2021
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