August 18

comments 15
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[Descant]

A strange thing,
this geometric
city living.

The night sky
is always pink here,
with residual heat—

I’ve never seen a star,
only the boxy glow
of the higher high-rise,

the landing lights
of planes swallowed up
by clouds (I assume)

no birds, no breeze,
just isolated trees
and the audible gradients

of interminable descent,
and I always wake up
tired. Selah.

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