A skyscraper rises above the rest in the sparkling glass city that devoured the wild.
We circle the warm air draft on our eagle wings, lifting to the roof to touch down our worn, Sharpie-heart Converse.
Green is everywhere. Wild has devoured the roof. We breathe crisp fresh sharp.
Thick vines snuggle up around tired old gray heaters, the electrical box houses lavender swishing in the breeze, a field of clover cushions our bare feet as we kick off shoes.
I pick a sunflower flourishing in a crack in the concrete and breathe its acceptance of life’s trials.
You tuck lilies in your hair and braid daisies into mine.
Isn’t this the real wild, thriving in the noise of modern society?
Isn’t that where we breathe deepest, a pocket of oxygen in an ocean rising to drown all that forget they can swim?