The distant city steals along the vale,
A miniature, a model on display,
Its limes and contours softened by a veil
Of silver-rippling mist at break of day;
From here, on woodland heights, it may look tame,
A harmless plaything for a wandering eye,
Its chimneys, streets, and factories free of blame
for lives so poisoned some of them will die.
But far from the fields and woods, inside the town
The damage is much easier to see:
Through hardship social peace can break right down
And homeless families struggle to be free.
Yet from the city all that can be seen
Is sky and underneath, some brown and green.

by Jonathan Bradley
Jonathan Bradley, a Renaissance Man with a career that spans finance and Academia, versifies his individual take on city life and points up the advantages of reflection as in ‘Escape from a pre-computer office‘.
POEM
From a Distance
More Poems by Jonathan Bradley