Manhatten

By TheShyAssassin

Tue, 18 Sep 2018

5 comments

Come to me October,

With your dawn mists and low, heavy boughs.

I will thrill to your chill.

I will sing at your silence.

And when November's icy fingers claw at your skeletal bones

I will remember that east side diner.

Where you picked at chicken and I drank wormwood.

And we laughed like happy children,

Till the cab arrived for JFK.

And we cried at the gate

In remembrance of times lost.

1 User voted this as great feedback

Permalink Submitted by london_calling79 on Tue, 2018-09-18 19:14

Beautiful, powerful and replete with loss.

1 User voted this as great feedback

Permalink Submitted by london_calling79 on Tue, 2018-09-18 19:28

This wonderfully panoramic piece is our pick of the day. Well done!

1 User voted this as great feedback

Permalink Submitted by thornwood on Wed, 2018-09-19 08:26

I like this.

Stephen d

1 User voted this as great feedback

Permalink Submitted by skinner_jennifer on Wed, 2018-09-19 11:10

Beautifully mastered poem.

Jenny.

Permalink Submitted by TheShyAssassin on Fri, 2020-03-20 01:04