Observation - November 5th, 2020, Tuesday

 Coffee on the terrace of the penthouse

 

Morning on 49^th Street, Radio City

 

Rockefeller Plaza, a few hundred feet away

 

Columns of concrete, glass and steel push up into the powder blue sky

 

Green-copper spires reflected in mirrors one thousand feet tall

 

Their soft patina wavering in the sunlight

 

 

A curious pigeon comes to greet me

 

 

The sounds of the city are pressing

 

A steady drone of HVAC permeates the atmosphere

 

Sirens wail and saws whine, over the drone of engines

 

As the arhythmic clang of steel on steel fills the air with hollow waves

 

While all around me hammers fall

 

The city hums with a ghostly bustle

 

 

 

Observation - July 2nd, 2017, Sunday

Observation

The light is soft in the morning.

The house is quiet…the city is quiet.

People have left town for the holiday that is coming.

It is Sunday morning, and there is parking available on the street in front of my house.

The birds are talking to each other.

My lady is still asleep behind the closed door of the bedroom.

Kitty is in the big window watching the wind blow through wisteria.

The smell of gunpowder still lingers in the air,

            The residue of 2:00 am revelry.

March 2nd, 2017, Thursday, Observation

It is 5:00 am and the city is stirring.

I have been awake for a few hours writing.

My cat is sleeping in the window,

Half lidded and watching.

There are rabbits on the lawn in the frosted morning.

The news is of the Attorney General lying,

Lying to the Senate under oath.

My lady is on the couch drinking coffee.

We are talking about the news, and wondering,

Is there a place for justice at the table in March.

Observation - July 1st, 2016, Friday

Observation

I can hear the wet-clinging strokes of the paint roller.

The back and forth, the up down; I can hear the spreading of the new white, covering the old white, yellowed with age.

She is painting the bedroom, while I listen to news, and write, and prepare for work.

My cat is watching the city from atop the couch; in the picture window.

Sunlight brushes the lilies in the boulevard.

A cool wind is blowing through the peonies, the dark green leaves are just bushes now; having dropped the soft petals, from their pendulous flowers.