Or are there cobwebs inside 
Is the dream still alive 
To let me see inside
To beg the moon 
To the window pane 
To plaster my aching face 
To run then walk up 
From here to there
To speed thru urban then country veins
I am consumed with the want
Now cracked by Creeping Charlie 
Atop a concrete vast 
Always remained empty
A shiny brick and glass box
An oasis to soothe the desert 
The middle of rural elsewhere 
When I’d hope for 
I witnessed years ago
The barn-raining of sorts
Racing back to my mind’s insomniac eye
It is the middle of midnite
Here in the diamond city