look
between the cobblestones
into the ancient earth
of the seaport

find there
the ghosts of new york

hear
water through the broken ships
anchoring the rotting piers
peck slip and coientes

find there
the bones of new york

smell
drifting airs sweet sour
salt spicy bitter
conjuring the past today

find there
the breath of new york

feel
destruction rumbling construction
devolving evolving mains tunnels
hovels towers bridges

find there
the blood of new york

taste
the masses strangers known
intimately in the shared glimpse
of the Endless across the tracks

find there
the dreams of new york

#150. Hey Adam (winter

January 22, 2010

Hey Adam (winter

in all the shadowy absences
of a barren season shine highlights.
things shared remain more than memory.
inspiration does not allow sorrow
to remain
nor does spring allow winter.

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