The View.

               The View

               The window
               looks out
               upon the twilight
               of an apprehensive morning
               slowly turning grey
               in the sunless dawn
               such a long night
               has finally broken
               into an appropriate day

               Cutting through
               the industrial sky
               rain falls orange
               on the street below
               and sparks up
               into an angry ballet

               Inexorable concrete
               reinforced
               with latticed steel
               rises monolithic
               imposing it's dimensions
               upon the horizon

               Buildings
               clothed in shadows
               are sentinel
               standing to attention
               locking out the night
               locking in
               the workers of the earth

               The prisoners
               of oppression
               sleep and awake
               in poverty
               and the soul
               is a silver thread
               spun upon a reel
               and life
               is more 
               than the mind can know
               but less
               than the heart can feel.