You walk along the littered miles
Timbered mountains rise so high
The landscape formed anew
Digging through the lives of others
You’ve found a treasure
New shoes–One white, one blue
You smile as children do.
I can’t imagine, I can remember
That balmy September in NYC
When mountains formed
Of steel and stone, 80 feet of bone
From what was once a city
within a city by the sea
I cry awhile for me, for you.
Your bayou sun sets beyond the mangrove roots.
And my sun spins into the harbor just past the wounded place.
We share the same sunset…