Week 4 – Astoria, Queens

Astoria, Queens

The sun sets over Long Island City.

The subway doors open and the dusky early twilight moves in. 

 

Rarely do I take an elevated line,

Watch the thousand lives of this city expand into starlight beneath my feet. 

 

It will be dark when I come out onto Classon Avenue, 

One more walk until I cross the familiar corners that lead home.

 

The train sweeps under the tallest buildings. 

I am one of a million souls on this night,

Headed, home. 

Day 23 – Feathers

Feathers

There is a small patchwork journal in my lap,

I climb flights of stairs to reach the roof.

The sky is is the kind of blue only poets see today,

The cherry blossoms, the rough tiles under my feet. 

Hearts of wood and water. 

These are things worth fighting for.