A favourable frame of the future;

The wind is tickling the trees and the branches are dancing in the sunlight. Some thin clouds are painted on the horizon-feathers brushed into the sky. My window is dirt speckled yet even it can't warp The beauty of the contrast between the pale blue and olive green hues. The noisy road meanders through the solitary valley. Cars flowing both upstream and down, the birds and insects too, Cruise on their highway yonder living on the breath of the air. Next to the ugly road ugly buildings form communities their own, Always undermined by the ancient trees Some buildings are epic journeys; Sometimes into unpretty pasts, most house the future, Nature's grandeur lies in history; history stole the future that is us, A lost generation uncomfortable with themselves Lost to nature but better than the previous people In many ways, gentler, like the colour of the sky.