(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

Division Dens

Living in division dens,
Picking through assorted mints.
Listening to urban music,
And amused by petty arguments.

How blissfully sweet,
This mixed menagerie lifts...
And greets from the streets.
I could not live in suburbia,
The silence of the sameness
Would distract.
And from that my nerves would be disturbed

Living in division dens,
Stacked in concrete...
From several stories of five.
With paths connecting others scattered,
To heights of more than ten!

And within them lives,
A collective eclected excitement of life.
From terraces this is shared.
Or one may choose to sit and breathe alone,
Knowing a world with this blend is out there.

Sparing one of total isolation.
Although inside these division dens,
A sense of freeing needed comes now and then.
And that pleases with an ease.
And yet connects,
In a separation accepted.

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