I remember this one…(I was naughty)…boomeranged into a new relationship to get over Mr young playa…(silly…really…didn’t end well…)

She stood at the balcony- bewitched 
The warm night air barely a whisper 
The landscape set before her
From the twentieth floor everything was in miniature 
A thousand houses; a million bright lights 
The skyline a purple belt in the night
Churches, steeples, towers and roofs
Each told her a few home truths 
The view from a high-rise building 
As streets worm down alleys and junction into roads
The view from the twentieth floor
With all the trees in miniature 
Night traffic contrasts with silent homes
And it’s beautiful 
© 1994

Maybe…my younger self should have stayed in the new relationship…nice poem.