Catherine Forman

Racing to catch a bus

overflowing with people.

I see them

every day.

Tell me,

dear City,

do they see me too?

On one of your sooty street corners,

a homeless man,

begs for change.

So I present him a gift,

and with raw and toothless gums,

he beams at me.

My dear City,

with those wadded up bills,

I hope you take good care of him.

Concealed by night.

Roaming your streets,

drunken and wary.

Women in tight dresses and cakey makeup,

trying to make a buck.

I am sorry.

My dear City,

I could not help

but stare.

City,

of black and white dreams

and palpable hope.

Blurred consciousness

like a cage of eternity.

My dear City,

You

will never 

die

But when I take my last breath

of your dense sky,

promise me,

dear City,

that you will

remember

me.