City Soil

Soil is black, trees are brown.

What's new in town?

Smog fills your eyes.

Look, look at this beautiful sky.


Grass is green, soft and lush.

While your feet are sounding against the grounding.

Shh! Now it's hushed.


Look, look at the lark!

Oh, what's that? You want to leave your mark?

Come, come and see this park.

Why take it apart?


What's all this sounding,

that pound, pound, pounding?

What's the rush?

Come, look at the brush.

You say this is too much,

But no, a city is too rough.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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