City



Apple#362

Two separate reflections on being in the city. This one a report: just as it was. The next, a prayer: just as it was, with a whisper of faith.

Dull sky, dull earth. Pavement under my feet, grey and grim, A manmade convenience, Hard to the tread:

Dusty, dirty,

And drab.


Surrounded by noises of the awakening city,

This crowded capital, Over-populated by consensus.


Personal space reduced to a minimum. Personal habits restricted to the socially acceptable.

Personal privacy only for the fewest moments of each day.

Personal integrity undermined. Personal freedoms squeezed by conformity.

Personhood grown mechanistic.


AB June 2018

@2018 by Anna Bosatta