Manhattan
by Nancy A. Henry


She walks in the city,
this quarry of all our dreams
intrigued by every particle
of the living monster,
studies at a school
where desire is never jaded,
stands amazed
before the stones and people--
smokestacks staining the sky,
silvergreen bridges,
this place--its insides, outsides,
delicate folding joints,
all its intimacies--
women walking to the banks and libraries
ravishing as sugar flowers.
A dim city bird, content to be
a diminished part of the geography
she walks behind them
eating silence.






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