Growing Construction Poem by Liyo Denorte

gazing,
i always find myself transfixed.
looking through a window
as i sip my usual doze of cappuccino.

floor by floor
i could witness it goes higher and higher
is it made by mortar and pestle?
is it made with flesh and bones?

i don't know
it just that,
it spurt up from a meager meadow
-a growing construction!

gazing,
i always find myself transfixed.
looking through a window
imagining,
what it would be like
to leave it as it is
and create a condo
good for two