Brother, you are my city.  
You are those imposing structures
Towering across my sightline.
You are that faded blue outline
That hovers like yesterday’s ghost
Just above the line of the lake
On blue, clear blue days
As I drive by on my way elsewhere.

Cousin, you are my city.
Distant yet familiar
Your name spills off my tongue
As though it were always there
Yet I only see you rarely
And rarely think about you except
To tell the world that doesn’t know you
Where I dwell, how far
From your concrete shores
I carry out my living.

Uncle, you are my city.
Telling me always of exciting happenings
Of things to do on your property
And people I could meet.
But most of the time I ignore;
Minding my own plans
And saying you are too far away
To visit.  Too far away
My distant relative.

The End

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