Concrete Jungle

Skyscrapers emerge like great stalagmites Their tops wreathed in mist Streets cobweb like the veins of a leaf People are talking, laughing, yelling In English, French, Russian Not everyone understands one another But some do We gather at watering holes to feed Go out in…


A mourning dove trills above my window sill. Memorial to a well-worn day as it weeps and slips away.