Rapunzel left her castle and moved to the city,
a high rise apartment her Uncle owned
It had a porch with a great view, but
most days she kept her windows
Closed
Choosing privacy over fresh air
On the rare occasions she stepped outside
She tried to pretend she heard
Nightingales
Rather than traffic, loud music and low flying jets
In those moments she closed her eyes
Remembering summer nights when the air was
Fragrant
When doves landed on her windowsill
Thus inspired, she let her hair down:
All fourteen stories