There, where the city scrapes the sky
Grey cement hued clouds reply
Facades put on a business face
Mirrored light and office space.

At night the lightning strikes reveal
As thunder echoes through the steel
A coldness wrapped in tempered glass
A skyline full of dark contrasts.

Welcoming the dwelling ghosts
Manmade, the buildings gather close
Circled in armless embrace
Against the wind they stand in place.

03/24/2005

Posted on 03/25/2005
Copyright © 2024 Mary Ellen Smith