I walk the sidewalks of Manhattan
They glide under my feet like moving tracks
I look far into the distance
Past the Starbucks, past the traffic lights,
Past the tall tall buildings
I picture a road without end
There are no walls, there are no road signs
The cement does not push against my feet
I look up and imagine that I could climb
High above the streets
Up the fire escapes, to the roof tops
Higher still, until the thin air coats my skin
And I am free

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 12/13/2010 07:53PM by mg.

Nicely done, mg, I enjoyed this one.

Les

hi Les, thank you.

mg,

Your poem makes me miss the City. Thanks,

Peter

Hi Peter,
thank you for reading and commenting.
I've lived in NY ever since my family moved to the US.
I think I'll miss it too, if I ever leave.
mg