Birch branches drape grasses, peacefully static;
the bees and plants in no panic.
And there live big stones, mysterious and dark -
ploughing like kings, those many acres of Central Park.
Fog begins its swathe across moonlit blanket-horizons
Strolling hungrily, through each bastion
The air does a salsa, rising with the Eastern Sun;
Free to run, anywhere, anyhow.
Fleshy eyeballs stare at other eyeballs
with "I know" calls.
Each eyeball, like different smooth pebbles on an endless shore;
seas of truth lying just beyond the gore.
Lone steel subway effortlessly dances to 125th -
filled with singing hotshots.
And the rats and sewer-stench
noon and midnight, snack and lunch.
Every character and life would uncurl,
declaring open the "Greatest City in the World".
Little clouds joy-riding the endless sky;
Hide the stars, silent and dry.
Amongst the riches of the cultures of this world
the people, in their souls, dutifully hold -
sagas of their American Dreams;
52 Stars and stripes on every window, flapping clean.
Words from the gut, out with sheer pride.
Flags wave, majestically, in perfect stride.
The pride of the people
to stand together through all trouble.
To holler, with no hestitation, no qualms
to everyone and their dogs -
"God Bless New York City!"
-
- 27 April 2002
Part of a series Im trying to write covering various US cities and areas.
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