The sky hangs low.
Cold settles in; no snow falls.
A man in black robe crosses the street.
An old woman enters a shop glazed with frost.
Red and green lights pulse in turn.
A deep mechanical hum—
then an aluminum can dropped.

A city 1.4 million meters away,
beneath the same dull sky.
A coast six thousand miles distant,
where only a faint breeze moves.

This city does not linger for those who pass through.
The wind does not either.
Where is the wind going?

The wind has risen.