On our April return
We saw civilian troops
At their Sunday best
Summer dressed and celebrating
A mild mish-mash
Springly fevered and sprawled throughout the streets
We heard
Forgotten sounds again
The alarms of insurance
A panic of ownership
The ignorance of the woop woop
What asphalt does to us monkeys
Again
We saw no stars at all
In the sky at least
For eyes are taken
To the horizon here
And all the man made lights
I thought
Not as an engineer
But a scrutineer
There is beauty at work
In industry at a distance
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