Aug 12, 2009

Glow

The inky blue of
Early March. Six
O’clock in north
Brooklyn and
I am suddenly
Alone.

In the distance the
Yellow glow of
Manhattan filters
Through the rooftops
Of our lovely Brooklyn,
Low buildings give
Way to rich night and
A full moon rises
Over Fulton Street.

We are a slip of land
Clinging fast to
Shore, so easy to
Disconnect, float
Quietly out to sea.
So easy, all of us,
Quietly afloat in
Open waters, deep
Atlantic echoing
Underneath.

Would I find you
Amongst the wreckage?
After splitting from this
Heavy motherland
Would you be there
In the orange light of
Dusk, or under the
Silent moon?

No. I am alone
In endless blue;
Empty horizon;
Edge of life;
Nothing before me
But the glow.