The City
Finally, after twenty-some years, I return
Stay at a passable hotel
Hardly able to sleep, early morning I stare out the window.
My eyes caress the jumbled, dirty rooftops,
Ears drink in the roar and sirens of business as usual.
I jump up.
Machine black coffee can’t dampen my heart.
I force open the graceless, miniscule terrace door,
Wedge myself outside
Transfixed.
Breathe in the city bouquet--
Heady car and cab fumes
Sweet spicy stench of vendor-cart hot dogs
Cloying waft of passing uptown lady’s excessive Chanel
Burning garbage.
I am home.
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