The City

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—
dreams of the riders
new as the city is old
dark and still
the buildings watch


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;

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