At this wakeful moment she is all I have.
I can hear the old girl
Bumping and wheezing
Uptown on 2nd Avenue.
Her gears and pistons churning their last life
Stirring the outdoor noises with her deep girth.
Her sighing stops
Her chirping starts.
Some giant mother Owl
All seeing,
Believing.
Fearing collapse and retread
Shoes and soul tired.
And I am jealous.
Another sleepless night.
She is spurred on kinetically,
Moved by a city asleep.
Lashing against the senses
Tensing her ridged body,
Her skirted center.
I try to match my breathing to the old-city-girl.
To the young one by my side.
Try coaxing a dream or two from
This lingering morning light.
©DANIEL MORTON 2011
©DANIEL MORTON 2011
