Sunrise ...

The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,
When the morning star shines dead;
- Percy Bysshe Shelley (The Cloud)
There is no morning star here ... and its the cloud is avoiding getting the sun on his back ... but wherever you go, you cannot avoid the cellphone tower.
Can you hear me now?




































