New Yorker

Maybe just the light; recalling how it was - recalling itself into its shimmer, healthy and bright shafts of it. What was New York. The Los Angelesness of it all. Here at the window. How it thickened the view; how it broadened the park. See it fascinate through greens into themselves and out into shadows of trees. Yes, New York - or how it will be. A trembling of place: a once to a once was. As yearly I still walk it here: among the humming of the trapezoids - a honed a barely there; among trapeziums and scalahedrons that speak to themselves in chorales of sometimes 'Yes, - it's you'.