Stranger City Travels (Poem)

He walked miles through shattered glass and grass,
iridescent and gecko green,
splotched and splattered in brown, it waved in tiny circles in a dusty breeze.
Trees scrubbed the sky with their needles,
roots turned and tripped over each other in their haste to greet him.
Sunshine stood still,
severing clouds,
sitting and smiling malevolently close to dusk's nervous arrival,
casting shadow fingers long and skinny up the mountain's spine.

He curiously eyed the darkness etching lines on his body,
and continued on.

The city appeared etched and blotched onto the horizon,
small, shaky lines making up its skyline,
apparently getting no closer the further he walked.
"But...this is impossible," he muttered,
stumbling over the next rise,
only to hear heady noises undulating with the hills,
rolling from an immeasurable distance.
 "What will I do If I can't get there...?" mumbling to himself,
slipping and sliding on lines of grass and glass,
listening to the sun chuckle with unshakable laughter.