Skyscrapers… remote, unpartisan…
Turning neither to the right nor left
Your imperturbable fronts….
Austerely greeting the sun
With one chilly finger of stone….
I know your secrets… better than all the policemen
like fat blue mullet along the avenues.
Skyscrapers
Lola Ridge
(1)
Poem topics: sun, blue, finger, stone, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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