I know it will all change
Places
Hands
Roomates
Tiny specks will remain
Of the neighborhood I knew
For just a moment
I was late to the party
Closed it down
What seems meaningless
Will be much more important to me
Miles down
The road
So this one goes out to the neighborhood
It was short
But it was good
Oh to fly
Away from the noise
Higher than the clouds
Get away
When the world
Is pulling me down
Oh to fly like a bird
In a fresh moment
Go with the wind
Go sing songs
Songs of love
Songs of hope
Birds will fly
I wish I could go
On a mission
Or a great diversion
Walks on nights
Needed to refresh and start again
In winters hands
Cold and wired
Late night walks
Are sometimes
Required
A new type of certainty
A falling away of certain
Today is today
The moment is now
Can’t hope for anything more
Right now
Just live in the moment
Now
What would it take
To get a seat in the cafe
In Williamsburg
Off 6th
Sunday
As the sunlight
Glistens I’m off
Frozen streets
Keeping an eye
For an opening
As the groups of people
Come and go
Bustle to and fro
A seat is precious on a Sunday
At best I can reminisce at how
We once had a seat at the cafe
On an easy Wednesday
But today now a seat was open
Not an empty chair
The sun continues to flow in the windows
Like streams of gold thistle
Through the trashed Christmas trees
Not a seat to be had today
So seats are to be envied
On a brisk Sunday in the cafe
On 6th Street
How uncertain
Certainly
Known
But not forgotten
We only know what was good
After we hit rock bottom
Through the window
At my old
Decrepit
Apartment
I can see
A new building
High rise built
In the back
Through a courtyard
I see dim lights
Glowing in warm rooms
Delicate structures
Mantles hanging
While golden geese
Swoon
Through the old window
With a moldy AC
I can see
How the others live
In NYC
Leave me be Google
The time is not right
Or the matter is not correct
Leave me alone when I am
Now on my own
Free but not full of freedom
Google let go of me
The webs have been woven
Bound to the tracks
The time passes
Like well-grown pines
On the Amtrack
East of Chicago
Bound to the tracks and bound
For a destination
A new time
A new nation
Should we await a new fate
New destinies on the horizon
In our own time and function
With our own satisfaction
How can we learn from each other
New and open ideas
Spread through conversations
With the one’s we know
And those we do not
Here comes a chance
And I hope we take it
