Quick City Poetry

In the mad rush from 34th Street to the place where I call work
I push through the mob of faceless people,
and meander passed the pan handling drunks that sit filthy
and hold a sign which reads,
“Help me, I’m homeless.”

I have become very much a part of this river of moving people.
We move down streets and avenues but the words, “Excuse me,” no longer exist.
morning
Underground, the trains move like an injection through dark tubes,
which tunnel beneath the City of New York.
I am a part of this system too.

Alone to catch my thoughts,
I stand 32 stories above the population.
Below, countless people move passed the facades of old buildings
and new ones.

Overhead, a falcon hovers in the sky and turns above the MetLife building.
I sit on the black tar roof, looking up
and I wonder about this magnificent bird.
That bird can fly wherever it wants,
but yet here it is,
soaring over Depew and 45th Street.
mailmetlife

In my thoughts, I drift to a place I visited years ago.
The sun was warm and the palm trees reminded me to take things slow.
People passed and said the simplest, most pleasant thing like, “Hello,” or “Good morning.”

In the spawn of my new direction,
I thought about the real estate of places in say, Miami, or Fort Lauderdale.
The sunsets I saw along the beach were like poetry.
I did not feel as if I were another face wandering through crowded streets.
People smiled, and in turn, I smiled back.

There was a time when I could have gone anywhere.
Yet I chose to stay here
….just like the falcon soaring above 45th Street.

To the south, The Empire State Building pokes the clouds
to the north is uptown
West is the Hudson
and east, The U.N. building is still under construction

This is where I am….
this is my coffee time in New York City
maillinc

 

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