Circadian Poems

A place to celebrate poetry, poets, and the creative spirit.

Friday, September 15, 2006

Manhattan Morning

MANHATTAN MORNING
By Lydia Yorke

Sirens silent
Garbage trucks come and gone
Radios off.

Unusual quiet
in a cool, grey morning light
barely brushed with yellow.

The thieves have gone underground
and prostitutes haven't emerged . . .
in this neighborhood.

A few buses groan in and out of Port Authority
along with a sprinkling of yellow cabs
and vans.

Almost-empty streets
almost-clean air
in an almost-human city.


Lydia Yorke loves Manhattan.

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