That Crimson City calls to me like it has never done before in my life/
What a thing to see the sky when walking down those so familiar paths/
I've taken them always since I was so small and young/
My thoughts stray to that place and though I'm in this particular place, I cannot move nor be stirred to go if given leave to do so/
My, my, how long has it been since the bluffs stretched out forever and a day before my very eyes?
My friends, my dear places, and you school, and all the other random faces/
You are missed within my heart of hearts and by the sky and stars that I learned by name so long before I came to the end of these Plains/
© S. I. Mette