City Living

*This is one of those word game poems I posted about earlier.  Someone gives me the first three words they can think of and I have to use them in the poem.  The words I was given are in capitals.*

I could never feel at ease
in this solid slate grey place,
where everything is a battle,
a constant fight for space.

Where buildings flaunt their height,
where silence is unknown,
where the world never knows night,
and shadows haunt for space to roam.

Outside my window ledge and down,
there is such a shadow on my street,
from a weak and starving sapling,
one of twelve spaced every twenty feet.

Down below the shadow dances
as the day begins to grow,
clinging to the CONCRETE,
shyly bathing in a sunny glow.

The movements of the wind are EMBELLISHED in
the PIROUETTING leaves and branches
that quake, and stretch, and bend, before taking a final bow,
as the sun retires and street lamps fizzle in.

A moment then of beauty here,
But I could never feel at home
Where the trees are shy in their dancing,
and shadows haunt for space to roam.

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