Mine

The wind blows across the treetops

Of spruce and cedar

Above the blaring loud speaker

Fallen leaves litter the ground

Burning in small piles

Smoke drifts upward with the breeze

Thousands of foot falls patter along the walks

The cleansing wind blows across the dirty land

Hinting of changes bound to come

On a small hill nearby

There is an opening through the trees

A vast vista of tree tops stretches out

Northwestwardly above a ceaseless multitude

Of shuffling, somnambulant souls

Hidden among the branches and foliage below

This is my private spot

My only place

One of momentary solitude

Where I glimpse for a brief instant

A vastly different world

Above the teeming multitude of souls

Nearby a huge spider weaves a web

And a praying mantis sits upon the handrail

A cricket is crawling across the steps

A rat is foraging in the forest cover below

A man walks by, loudly clears his throat, and spits

A group of young women stare blankly around a corner

The marching music carries with the wind

Issuing forth boldly from a hundred different speakers

A cacophonous echo resounds across the dirty land

Penetrating every recess and corner of the campus

The new students are all marching in the fields below

Keeping time to the shrill whistles of the young soldiers

Almost a week without baths

They sweat and stink

While the dust and smoke blows in the wind

Cleansing all the land

Purging the bowels of the seeping outhouses

Bringing in the world beyond