This city is planning to swallow me up whole,
Tall buildings loom over me,
Watching as I try to escape their shadows,
Horns blast,
People on their phones are talking way too loud,
So I run,
I run to the edge of the street,
Where the shadows end,
And the light begins,
The city fades into a field of wildflowers,
This is where I spend what is left of my afternoon,
Enjoying the native wind,
The chirping birds,
The sun browning my skin and bleaching my hair,
And I wait until I must return to the bustling streets,
To worry about this sacred land,
And those rebel flowers,
One day being pulverized by concrete and tires,
Day by day,
Year by year,
Acre by acre,
We lose the places in which we can escape to.
