I can’t see the stars for the skyline, the night time blaze
I’m sure you can see where you are, from the vantage point far above the place
where Burr murdered Hamilton, just not out of love, old poems filling my head
about you being the brightest of these stars, only I am blinded by the
brilliance of the city that never sleeps and can’t see passed it to see you,
even at this late date, even when I know where you shine and when, it is not
for me, and I settle for the illusion that you light up my sky just for me, and
that if I try hard enough I can see you, even when I know I can’t, your light
reflecting on this river that keeps me company when you are no longer here, a
river we share, the pattern on the water taking your shape if I stare hard
enough.
No comments:
Post a Comment