Evening In the Asphalt Homeland

Around the benches the young and the not so young are gathered The bodega is open for busingess Someone is talking loudly into a cellphone disturbing the peace of the shoppers The sky is growing darker We have not as yet reached the summer solstice On the FDR drive cars whizz by rapidly Bringing their occupants towards their homes, their lives The Williamsburg bridge stretches across the East River As cars cross over on their wasy A thin veneer of hope covers the metropolitna scene Another evening has arrived Thousands head home to rest from their daily toil In the distance the sound of an ambulance reminds us of our mortality