contrail-crossed cool blue skies-
contrails catching hints of some pink-orange hue
amber sunlight sails in sideways,
so all surfaces either glow warmth,
or hunch in dank shadow
no foul winds blow through the cold air and cleansing rays, so the city is psychically scrubbed
bold buildings and muscular mansions age with a grace rarely seen in our kind, but known in the weathered silver-hairs who draw envious glances to their last breath
even the haunting neo-Gothic rooftops and grotesque gargoyles only pull the city from sweet to charming
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