It is -2 degrees, the skyline so grey,
Misty fogs surround surreptitiously,
This melancholic city of alpine arrays
With the Alps covered in white snow,
The streets, whizzing and cold,
With covid taking on the cold…
The
birds are hidden in the safe terrain,
Trains and trams
transcend,
Every end,
No obvious romance,
Except these teens,
In their seventeenth,
Whose teeth,
Met, by the side of the train in the rain..
The old man smoldering and smoking,
Walked away, not in awe..
At Ibis hotel, the blonde pierced the chest,
Of her friend in white linen, leaning on him,
By the head, and by the shoulder..
A small puppy
following religiously,
Criss crossing and titrating every corner…
The old town, down town
Is a memoir of Africa’s loot gone West,
To rest beneath these seamless golden
Goblets of the West,
I returned by the Betrexert mall,
As the man with a scooter,
And another with a cycle,
By passed, small small…
