The slow rising
haze
offers
comforting
familiarity as I
leave behind
the
maze of
Quads
turned octos
A Decapolis of
decadence
crossing the bridge awed
by
the enterprising
fishers
the City
reveals itself
in the
glare
of daylight
mansions stare
from their hillside
perches
feigning interest in
my
petty
struggles
with rhymes
There were
times when
it seemed I was
trapped
in the valley of
the shadow of
death
Still I kept
heading
to the
hills
no matter
how distant
they seem
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