There's something special about the wee hours of morning in a city.
When one walks out the door to a muted rumble,
A cool coastal mist,
Glides across plains of pavement
...
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To CHASE THE TRUTH THAT SLUMBERS IN THE URBAN CRESCENDO THAT IS A CITY MORNING... that is an ideal and useful past time. And I would like to see and read the poem in which you flesh out this subject in your free verse. Take Monday off, I'll be your substitute at work, because the poem you will write will benefit all of us with its double vision of our lives in nature and the city.
Thanks very much, If only I could take a day on a whim! . Further exploration will happen, but perhaps not by Monday. Best,
a cool coastal mist glides across plains of pavement reminding me that even in my concrete jungle nature hides not far away a really nice poem..thanks for sharing i wud love your comments on my poems SALVATION...I WILL WAIT and LOVE...ONLY THE LOVE
Nice images indeed. Thanks