When I first cried here there were leaves
raining down on me gently.
The sky and sun made a sport of wooing
the indifferent skyscrapers
and we silly humans never really bothered
to look up.
But when we’re on a plane, above the clouds
we always yearn to look down, don’t we?
Boston,
just say the word and I’ll fade away now,
make the clouds blush one last time
before I slip away, now
Give me one last night with my flickering
shadows of home
before I up and leave, now.
Send one last gust of Charles-kissed breeze
so that I lose my balance and laugh out loud.
I walked along the river and painstakingly yet
unconsciously memorized
the fluid, inverted reflections of buildings
on the water’s expanse
the lipstick stains left on the waves by
passing cars
. Lights glittered on the water’s surface
confusing the faeries but comforting me.
Boston,
just tell me when and I’ll fade away, now.
just give me one last snowstorm
before I fly away, now.
Give me one last sunrise which breathes
blue and shades of lazy gloom
before I put my last cigarette out.
Just say the word.
The trees let their leaves pirouette and swirl
in their death throes
raining down in cascades of agony which
we marvel at,
trying to catch them as they fall around us
whispering about
quaint Autumn evenings, whistling days and
brittle but vivacious Winter nights to come.