all bound in black and green
dark and twisting streets
never veering
always steering
straight for home
Towering skyscrapers reach
high into the dust-filled sky
reaching ever upwards, high
But never finding their metallic roof
the dome that holds their cries inside
their whispers quiet as dead men's lies
all ears and yet all held aloof.
Look closer still and small cars burst
and race their worth
along those highways
created, birthed
on silicone dreams
and electric whims
They race along
faster than a thought
for each a message, vital held
must make delivery or else hold up
the very city's vital breath
and maybe bring an unseen process
to untimely death.
This silent city calmly sleeps
beneath its metal canopy
beneath the dusty hiding space
within the darkness of my desk
awaiting, silent as the night
a finger's press to bring to life.
TheWeeScottie
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