The city was bustling with life, as does any respectable city

Stalls open, air sweet with the scent of baked goods,

And the skies open, bursting into clouds of gorgeous hues, free of man's pity

The whole city awake save for one man- a person deep in the sluggish nostalgia of childhood

They, half-asleep, thrust open thick cerise curtains

Only to jolt back with a yelp of dismay, the sun's bright morning greeting far too bright

Then they relaxed, letting out a sigh of relief, before steeling themself with a certain

look in their eyes- the look they always donned when they felt the zing of inspiration to write

And so they set out among the bustling crowds,

Sighing a peaceful sigh, content, as they meandered through the comforting city sights

Soon thereafter they found themself following the sky's clouds,

Having purchased a bun from the baker's (or maybe two- but don't tell!), settling down to write

And they ended up in the city's sprawling expanses of green, a diamond among coal-

The park was a haven among the sprawling cityscape

They settled into their frequent post, a worn bench, and let themself feel one with nature- whole

They whipped out their notepad, let in one last breath of nature, and let the words take shape