New York (Sedoka)

 

Urban jungle thrives

Smelling of hot dogs and beer

As conversations collide

 

Freedom, what freedom

Squirming like a canned sardine

Packed sidewalks barring my way

My New York Memory



 
 A breath of wind sweeps the streets. She stands in her red, summer skirt with one sandalled foot resting on the sidewalk, the other against the wall. To her, I’m like the breeze she so elegantly perspires in: a passing event barely noticeable, a slight disturbance. But she is far more to me. She is and forever will be the girl in the little, red dress, the lightest thought in a nearing winter. A reminder of a carefree summer that came and went, she’s a memory newly made. She’s all that and more and she’ll never ever know it. Pity.

 
 (Image courtesy fineartamerica.com)

The Sunken City


Dropping in slow motion through layers of liquid silk, I was drowning in an ocean I’d always hoped would become my home.

Now, as I watched the blue fade to black, I realised the ocean meant more to me even in death than the land ever did in life.
I didn’t struggle, wouldn’t have changed it, just breathed.
The chilling water entered my throat and took me unto it.
Wept tears merged with saline sea and left for adventures of their own.
Down and down.
On and on.
A dropped rock with nowhere to land.
A soul with no home.
But always conscious.
I lost track of time, as I did all light.
There was no up, nor down.
Until…
From a direction I can only say was before my eyes, there was light.
A blazing beacon thrust up into the ink-black gloom.
The thing shone with a luminance reserved only for angels.
Little fish swam about it like sparlking jewels and I marvelled as a discarded scale flickered past me.
On I slipped, drifted, then slipped some more.
The light grew brighter until the ocean was alive with all the colours of the spectrum.
And the ocean safely delivered me to a street in between kelp wavering fronds.
Mer folk went about there business completely unaware of me.
I followed the passsge of a little blue fish that like a moth to a flame swam towards the upturned, scaled lights of a building I had seen in ancient books.

At that moment I knew the legends were true and I had reached the fabled, lost, sunken city of New York: my new home.