Cracks of clouded sky filter
Beasts of grey stocklily guard
a maze of cement ribbon road
spotted with life's endless traffic, rainbow people.

Cold glass glares from the shadows,
mirrors of sun, glinting from windows
flash morse code in eternal answer
reflecting dull hues of city jungles.

Smoke roars from factory mouths,
metallic birds streak overhead
leaving a puff, a trail of fumes
to map a fading pathway to the sun.

How can stone grow? It does
a tumour of concrete ever bigger, swarming,
defiant fingers stab bluntly heavenwards
grey buildings on grey sky on technicolour life.