in the absence of light
to know hardness just below
riding two wheels is flight soundless to the wind
i tore down off-broadway
as if my day warranted exodus
past homes preparing for rest where
there were a few porch lights accompanied
only by the flickering red and white
of those on the flats
other riders took with me a bold hard line
on the grid and towards the bright glazed tower spires
reflecting twice their stature in the sheltered bay
i knew from a newborn memory was there
a glass shard in an arboreal vastness
i am three thousand miles from home
(perhaps soon just four more blocks)
and the tug pull of old losing ground to
the new has commenced
with sadness the space between
my two homes will never fold
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