Month of Poetry, Day 23

I have felt the city's thrum

I have felt
the city's thrum
I have walked
its humming streets
till, footsore and weary
I have sat
on its benches
and watched
its many-hued waters
flow past me

I have followed
its rippling glass
to the sky, exalted
in its marble columns
of neo-classical pretension

I have prowled
its halls of art, science,
and imagination
I have stood
on the steps
of history
and remembered

I have handed quarters,
dollars, to its discarded,
others I have looked
in the eye and
passed by,
hands in pockets

I have feasted
at its table,
laden with the fruits
of many lands,
licked its juices
from my fingertips

I have said goodbye,
traveled miles
to trees and frogsong
and backwoods shacks,
I have wept by startlight,
the city's pulse
still beating
in my veins