Every day I wake and
Around me squats a city of steel and concrete.
Roaring trucks trundle past my window,
Their exhaust leaving trails in the still morning air, and the
Howling wind breaking against half-finished buildings keeps me from sleeping.
Deep breath in, I close my eyes; imagining the
Arbors of my youth, falling asleep beneath the swaying branches of trees,
Yawning and creaking in the wind, those ancient sentinels of nature.
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Robin Jeffrey 