Concrete On the Edge of the Skyline.

Rippling past our eyes is the ebb
of our current place in the universe.

All things that surround us are alive with
life and beauty. Even the glass windows of brown stone

apartments are lit with the beauty of life. The small
stone fragments of old brick. The butterflies fighting

the summer wind.  The current age of
our Planet. The metronome of traffic swaying

in front of stop signs, traffic lights old.
Passing pedestrians, glued to their podcasts

their telephone calls.
Words in the wind.
Wires,

hanging in the air.

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