The City

Ink lings

Brazen horns protest each others presence
Steam rises from beneath the tarnished streets
Taxi’s tease with flags that say “off duty”
And in the shadows, grifters ply their trade

A cacophony of  smells assault the senses
Windows dressed, compete to catch the eye
Breezes brush against you with a stale breath
Ribbons of  cracked sidewalks meet your tread

Isolation in a sea of people
Buildings clinging tightly side by side
Sirens scream the news of unknown victims
The city owns your soul, it lives inside

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About oldmainer

I am retired and live in southern Maine with my wife and two dogs of questionable origin. I created this blog as an outlet for my occasional opinions and random observations since my wife is tired of hearing them and, after 50 some odd years, probably with good reason. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
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