I happened to glance up at the building
across the street from my bus stop
to see that the rhythm of its glass-clad
carapace had been interrupted.
Two long contrails from jets made a scraggly
white trail, breaking up the blue grid,
and the sun's bright glare threatened to burn
a hole in the offices above.
2 comments:
A dazzling shot!
Yeah, William, it's the small things that get me. Hell, if men only knew all they had to do was dazzle me with shiny things, especially a shiny building, well ... anything could happen. And this building did dazzle me; I thought the sun's glare was going to burn a hole in all the little ants scurrying around below.
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