By the River
The scent of marijuana wafts
Right by me on the air.
I do not see the smoker and
I really do not care.
A motorboat is bouncing
On the river; it its wake
Two jet ski riders race on by,
Like winning is at stake.
The ferries pick up passengers,
Discharge the ones on board.
Some swallows swoop past people’s heads
But mostly, they’re ignored.
As runners jog and cycles roll
And exercisers walk,
I sit and watch the human stream
That flows here in New Yawk.
The city’s lost some sizzle
And may not regain its glow,
But when I sit by the river,
It’s the city that I know.
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