this is real.

i am out of my skin today.
i suppose this is the place we have all been waiting for
but still i stare at it not quite sure how to move.
these arms are legs & hands are feet.
i walk with my head between my elbows.
i am scared to breath but it is a must.
this is real.
the clay is drying out & i will not set in this shape.

the grass just grows too fast

the highway turned to gravel long ago

& nature just had to have her way

these streets soon will be fields

& i'll lay in them at night with a fire burning

look up to the stars

& wonder if there really is more peace in the pasture

perspective.

& the city will always look the same

from outside the walls

& we will peer over & in & throw

our spears against the stones

always breaking & never making a scratch

against those defenses

& we will wake every new day

with glassy eyes & ready our throwing arms

& the city will remain the same

there is a gate & it is open

& it will take us to the city

we can only see from

it's streets