The journey of Sisyphus’ stone shoved with all might until will breaks, and the stone disintegrates into gravel, then sand,
By Isabel Keleti3 years ago in Poets
Ice-encased Hudson Yards lights fade to the distance — a hard-fought way in a bitter city, become battles frozen in time
Vibrant storefronts circle us like seasons, while your memories live in other places, other times. What is it like, a life
When I miss you, I think of Brooklyn Bridge. There, our glories lived along the water’s edge, where Walt Whitman wrote of thousands before us
Every day I’m a little bit farther But still, some times I close my eyes and see flaming red, squinting to block those blinding rays.
While I was sleeping, I was charmed by your presence a dream of happiness, you were with me your eyes were enchanting; your voice pure and soaring,
I wish I could retrace that city of columns, ascending like trees beckoned forth by a nurturing sun illuminating colors brighter