Walk to the subway

Before the bridge, the little herbs stand. A wooden shack upholstered with rosemary, chamomile, basil. Also, long green rubbery tongues, dark green tongues edged with spikes: aloe. A dark face peeking out of the window in the middle of the herb forest. A rectangular garden, an eternal plant rack, suspended above the multiple lanes, the infinite rows of cars, the flashing metal. A furry green scaffolding etched out against the city´s widest horizon. The eye reaches farther, down the valley, all the way to the high towers of Zona Leste, and still, there is a sky behind it.