midtown

walking north

to south

toward the wail

of harbor boats,

counting down--

14th Street, the lost boys

of Washington Park,

Little Italy’s intoxicating

aromas, Chinatown,

acrid garbage bins,

a drunk sprawled

across the sidewalk,

flock of pigeons pecking

about, Battery Park and

darkness beyond;

glaze of city lights

paint a rippling Monet

on the water and so,

I sit on my bench,

take crusts of bread,

half a bagel from my pocket

but no squirrels, no sea birds,

just a listless wind,

a couple fishermen casting

from the rocks, city aglow,

dreamlike, the night the best

of mid-summer, city sounds,

endless sky, me a king

of my realm, no matter

I cannot recall the words

of a song I hear in my head:

1950s, either Ol’ Blue Eyes

or maybe Tony Bennett

 

-- Miguel de O

 

Done