I forgot to look at the sky,
bright, cold blue with shreds of white hanging
above and beyond the grey city
whose tall, misty pillars of different shapes and sizes stand
full of people who are full of frowns.
Who,
like me,
probably forget to look at the sky.

In the foreground, ***** trees sprawl low and wide and leafless in the winter chill.
Dark roots curled under the wet grass of the hill which holds me and you

I feel lost and perhaps a little homesick.
This isn't my city.
The buildings aren't mine and the trees aren't mine
but a little part of the sky is mine
as I breathe it in
and out
and it refreshes my skin.

I don't realise what I have