Urban Street

Urban Street

Here I stand,

my feet

imprisoned.

But my roots

go down deep

to unimaginable

 freedom.

And memories are stirred

of grassy 

forest floors

starred with 

wind flowers

And sheaves

of Bluebells,

patchwork 

sunshine and 

velvet shade.

Sweet honeysuckle

linking us together

with fragrant arms.

My arms reach up

into the foetid air

that smells of

 diesel and the 

stench of

stale humanity;

and moss

creeps over 

my feet

and comforts me.