I stand on the hem of her dress but she does not acknowledge my presence.
She provides living space; small, intimate though cramped and enclosed, sometimes insular. Many cannot afford to dwell near her bosom, the site of the zeitgeist.
I love her. Yet I agonize the worth of her embrace.
In the time of my early youth--teetering the precipice of adulthood--I was fraught with excitement and naivete. I sprang from a spawning in the township of Queens and when I grew, I found solace in the county of Kings. She watched my stepping and offered sitting near her bosom.
Summer in her realm bestowed a bounty of revelry and memory to come. Trees thick with green at their crest, their base covered in soot, concrete soiled by urine soon cleansed by noon summer rain. Performances, drummers, singers, acrobats and thespians, abrupt, explode from the ground of public gardens. Chatter in bustling eateries, laughter in dark, cool taverns. Lunch held in hand from a traversing gastro-cart. Sweat spills at the brow from sitting still. Summer evenings too warm for slumber ...
I bounced upon streets, discovered, explored. She endured my presence. She turned her gaze toward my pleasures, stood at the fault and value of my lessons. I existed deep in the grasp of her bosom. I was certain it's worth.
I love her and will always. I cannot take her glory where I go; that which dwells within my character she has given for my keeping. Though I cannot stay, I will no longer exist against the boundaries of her bosom. I must leave. I must leave her. Though I may return as I have before. I wish she will receive me, gripping my frame pulling me close--for a time--I will smile and whisper, "I'm home".
New York
J.A. Freeman
She provides living space; small, intimate though cramped and enclosed, sometimes insular. Many cannot afford to dwell near her bosom, the site of the zeitgeist.
I love her. Yet I agonize the worth of her embrace.
In the time of my early youth--teetering the precipice of adulthood--I was fraught with excitement and naivete. I sprang from a spawning in the township of Queens and when I grew, I found solace in the county of Kings. She watched my stepping and offered sitting near her bosom.
Summer in her realm bestowed a bounty of revelry and memory to come. Trees thick with green at their crest, their base covered in soot, concrete soiled by urine soon cleansed by noon summer rain. Performances, drummers, singers, acrobats and thespians, abrupt, explode from the ground of public gardens. Chatter in bustling eateries, laughter in dark, cool taverns. Lunch held in hand from a traversing gastro-cart. Sweat spills at the brow from sitting still. Summer evenings too warm for slumber ...
I bounced upon streets, discovered, explored. She endured my presence. She turned her gaze toward my pleasures, stood at the fault and value of my lessons. I existed deep in the grasp of her bosom. I was certain it's worth.
I love her and will always. I cannot take her glory where I go; that which dwells within my character she has given for my keeping. Though I cannot stay, I will no longer exist against the boundaries of her bosom. I must leave. I must leave her. Though I may return as I have before. I wish she will receive me, gripping my frame pulling me close--for a time--I will smile and whisper, "I'm home".
New York
J.A. Freeman
mattacme:
Beautiful.
jafreeman1:
Thank you sir!