My window

faces west,
frames a patch of sky
grotesque buildings
a few trees.

Some years ago
the scene included
hills beyond;
but the monster structures
swallowed them;
gorging, ever growing
they’re devouring the trees
nibbling at the sky.

The sky at times looks
dreary gray
or ominous dark,
at times deep azure
where one’s spirit may soar.
And sometimes set ablaze
at sunset, flares up
into glorious multi-coloured flame.

What your window shows
i know not,
but dearly hope
you see a span of sky
and way beyond.