Listen:
I went to the doctor and found out
there is an empty city inside me.
The streets are broad and mostly clean.
Trees are few and far between.
No cars are parked on the boulevards.
Why has it been abandoned, this city?
Who used to live here, and why
did they rush off to the countryside?
I admit I was distressed by the news.
I had hoped for a mist-cloaked wilderness,
or at least a ragged branch of crows.
Instead I wander silent apartments.
The closets brim with winter clothes.
Now I lie awake and wonder what will they
do when the winds of November come
and bite through their thin summer dresses?