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My City

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If I cannot leave this body
I will walk beyond this slate-city
Until my feet are worn and brown
And the mottled earth will be numb beneath me
And the city behind me will rise
The concrete giants that loom
And frame each square, dirty window
Look
See the family
And the T.V. bleating with canned laughter
If I cannot leave this body
I will turn away from
The glow that peaks through each square
In that flat and pulsing twinkle of the skyline
And instead turn my heavy eyes to the
Line of light that lies
Waiting, wavering
On the horizon.




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