Where the skyscraper meets
the periwinkle sky
and hawks glide by
on currents
The city heats
with concrete beats
upon the weary eye.
Electric fields like webs entangle
wrapping us cocoon like in their signal
Storefronts bustle
in their hustle
bleeding night
from day.
I see a cloud
above the fray
white and fluffy true
reminding me
of sourdough
biscuits in the blue.
Janet in her poem sourdough biscuits describes an evening using flowery language I could relate to the poem as I could identify some of the words used. I thought she was very creative with her language and style of poetry well done 👍
What a masterpiece… seems like it’s fresh from life’s oven of dreams.