Escape

Escape

Robinson Astaire didn’t have a care

As the bus ride got him there

From Point A to Point B

A chance to see the whole city

On the far side of the lake

His own rendering he would take

Of the mountains afar

And the Needle, its top light a star

Somewhere in the hustle and bustle

There were quiet parks where the leaves would rustle

But that would have to wait another day

For today was his time to look toward the bay.