As the wheels leave the asphalt,
eyes scanning the clouds,
and I can’t see New York.
Fist around my heart,
peace and unrest simultaneously
I ache for you when I leave.
It takes leaving this never-still metropolis
to find your soul again.
How long it takes to forget
the beauty in the smog,
the thrill in the pace,
how full you feel when you’re angry,
You think you don’t miss trees,
Space where just she is,
standing with the sunbeams behind her,
on a sea of green, green grass
and ‘the hissing of summer lawns.’
just like that —
the world an atlas beneath you,
seeing it the way
balloons floating into the sky see you.
I see Atlantic City.
And I can see New York.
I missed you, I think,
tires groan against the asphalt,
and would she please move a little faster,
get out of my way,
not sit so close.
I ache to leave you when I return.