My City
Stone and steel...
twisted together
burning around each other in the desert noon
the stone burns slow, all day long,
cool to my caress when the suns are up
the steel - hot, burning blindingly, all day long...
to dare it's touch is to die stuck fast, seared
but in the night... when the suns dip low
beyond the curve of the horizon
the steel grows cold dark and distant.
The stone, cleverly eating the sweet warmth
all day, embraces the steel yet,
sharing it's slow heat..
it's granite ardor...
with the steel of my city.
112800 - Kris Kiessling
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