Winter leaps from an open canister – sea salt popcorn.

A popped piece of light

            hangs in the distance – green like Gatsby.


Everywhere activity - glass tapestries

            hang along the walkways, filled

            with evening footsteps, pattering.


Something important is happening.

            At night

the city sprawls underneath the sheets,

a grey blanket swaddles a purple tower.


Just before I close my eyes, I can hear many voices becoming one.

They keep saying,

            we were once like you,

                        we were once like you.