City of Gold

It is not through his hand Nor his imagination That we view the City of Gold It is through the experiences of the Artist George Siejka. I remember George Only nine, ten years old Hunched over a small desk Drawing under poor lighting Bringing life and dialogue To comic book characters. Art was the escape vehicle From a mother’s shame Battling loneliness In a working class family George was a dreamer From the very beginning. Artists have art But George’s work Is more than just paint And brush stokes On canvas He creates a vivid image Remarkable in its realism In the City of Gold There is an opening in an Old chain link fence Space barely large enough For a hand to reach out Or press a face against cold steel For a glimpse Of a restless city Just a river away. Some say it’s easier to walk on water Than to live in the City of Gold. The panting is stark Representing those who look in from the outside From places like Brooklyn Where people live with modest dreams And face Birth And death As close companions It is also a place where the young, Strong and independent, Are not afraid To cross boundaries Or face life A rusted fence Will not stand in their way They will make it To the other side Past the City of Gold And beyond.