The view from the window:
dirty mean streets, brick and concrete,
blocks of buildings, filled with people
as mean and dirty as the streets.
This urban profanity of a place,
untidy and unkempt and uncared for,
unloved by many, but most of all by me,
I hate it more than I can say.
Give me the fields of my youth,
golden rolling wheat as tall as my eyes.
Give me muddy streams and untrod paths,
hedges for hiding and trees for climbing.
Give me space away from other people,
give me sanctuary.
Oh, my only god,
alone, in peace, and free,
all I want, all I need to see,
are trees and green and thee.