111: Davisville

Greenery entangled
With white brick life
We wave at the trains from the Belt Line
Bridge trembles
With the down town imports
And the youth, the young,
We run through cemeteries
Rich with granite and the deep, verdant green
Overlooked by the balconies
And roof top watchers
Each competing for the closest piece of the sky
Here, the skies recede to the shore, to the
Buzz of the highways, to the
Concrete glass standings, to the
Lush woodlands again
And the Roofs of Renown - their yards invested,
Eternal pristine,
Never contend with the view omniscient
All truth and beauty
minimized to that
of a
painted
square.

We pinch it with

the space

between

our

fingertips.

Thirty stories to tell, and thirty floors to climb.