Jungle

The clouds that melt down in wet cool droplets

Slick the black tar and gray concrete

Into muddled streams and flat faced rocks

Brick and steel decay to its wooden center

And train tracks mimic cicadas

The grass becomes greener now

And less trotted by anyone but me

And the air smells of nature not industry

For a moment I wish for it to stay like this

For a moment my mind wishes with me