The hidden world.
Raised over a life of Bus stops
and flying cars.
Where trees ascending
Show their shapes at their rounded
Symbolic tops.
All of us breathing under
the wandering,
The unbroken-
Void.
One green chair,
reclined
towards a wired skyline sunset
Watching the show of
The sweeps, swooping
Everywhere with velocity
The sky filling with determined
Black figures. Purple and red.
Shadows on a canvas
of the darkest of blues
A daily ritual
Moon broad and solid
Two angels on the shoulders
Of the world.
Birds now whispering
and cradled
by bricks.