buildings
corrupted in the dark
mixed with the light
of strangers
 
          *
 
hurried feet
step by step on pavement—
and the dirt is deep
as little by little
they mark their souls
 
          *
 
organism of souls
who have their moment
and sink back down
to dark oblivion
 
          *
 
steam in the streets
with century old pipes bursting—

Meandering above the asphalt streets,
The autumn moon lights vendor stalls;
From dawn to dusk the city beats
A song beyond Manhattan’s walls.
 
Across this land the Rocky Mountains
Conceal the trees and western sand,
But here another day begins,
Anxieties and troubles at hand.
 
The sky grows gray with tiny mist
That washes the building glass;
But clouds across the plains persist
To drizzle wet the newborn grass.
 
A clear breeze blows the fog away
To stretch it out like feathered sky;
I’ll open my arms, and come what may,