Barbara A Taylor
Desolation Row

. . . a tanka sequence

another morning
in a city of millions
concrete and glass—
dwarfed by the high-rise
she breakfasts alone

hello world!
is there anyone out there?
she hollers
through tall wind channels
waiting for an echo

another raise
up the corporate ladder
of greed,
but nothing can replace
her vision of snowcapped peaks


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