Saturday, April 2, 2011

Day 25, Sonnet 25

The city’s skin is tender to the touch

With concrete cracks in pavement’s flesh of gray.

The blinding sun reveals almost too much

When bones of steel do glitter on display.

The tow’ring glass reflects the passersby

Who rarely look to see their mirrored mouths

Nor meet with glance a stranger’s friendly eyes

As bodies move from north to west to south.

This city breathes: a heaving sort of gasp

As horns exhale and echoes lose their sound

E’en pleasant sounds become a vicious rasp;

Cacophony treads patience to the ground.

When cities loom and wavering mouths constrain

Hear keenly for humanity’s refrain.

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