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This city makes me dream of better things. From this view, it’s a paradise of skyscrapers grazing the winter sky. The windowed buildings glint in the sunlight. The light causes them to gleam, despite their varied shades of colour. There is a blue-green skyscraper fading into dirty brown, and other skyscrapers which are variations of grey and black. Some of the older buildings are a dull sandstone and ivory marble.
Each building is unique. Certain buildings are modern and geometric and certain buildings are tall with pointed tops. Other buildings are layered, flowing down like ancient ziggurats, while other buildings are of a more recent era in the nineteenth and early twentieth-century. They’re the prettiest buildings, their historicism copied using the lovingly designed architecture of late gothic and early-Renaissance cathedrals.
I call this city my home but I hardly gaze at it from this view. The snow lies as delicate white lace beneath my booted feet and I think, such beauty we have here.
Yet, in this beauty of skyscrapers, snow, and sunlight shimmering, they’re few places to rest for an aged homeless man.
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