This City


I took your city to bed
Under a rain soft and bitter
Her streets wet
Her buildings part for me to enter
I know you found her first
But now I walk inside her too
Now I make wishes on her stones

She wrote him a letter
With library pencil and blue lined paper
They parted at the corner
She made wishes on his stones
He threw away her seashells
When he thought she wasn’t looking
Wait, she whispered
Look, she cried
He drown in a street of umbrellas
Like a river dark and cold

I woke before dawn
Watched her colors spread across the sky
Red and gold and violet as the fire inside me
Wake up, I whispered
Look, I cried
But no one answered
I always sleep alone

Meet me on the steps, she whispered
Meet me where you kissed me, she cried
She chased the colors he once wore
Tapped the shoulders of a thousand men
A thousand strangers
None were him
She walked home alone
Under a rain soft and bitter

Stop someday in the place I stood
To watch umbrellas weave from sight
Like a river dark and cold
To pick out the colors I once wore
In the street signs
And brake lights
The smile of a cab driver

The train shudders
Comes to rest beside white tile
The valiant flicker of electric lights
He leaves his umbrella on an empty seat
Wait, she whispers
Come back, she cries
But the doors close
The train weaves from sight
Like a river dark and cold

When I have stolen your city
You will see my colors spread across her sky
Her streets wet
Her buildings part when you enter
You will burn with red and gold and violet
Meet me on the steps, you whisper
Meet me where you kissed me, you cry
But too late
This city has granted your wish
You walk alone
Under a rain soft and bitter

9 thoughts on “This City

Add yours

  1. Wow – what a great poem! Is this a form poem? It reminds me of a pantoum. Beautiful imagery – very vivid, romantic and heart breaking!

    1. Thanks, Georgina! Well, I pantoum has stricter rules..lines that repeat themselves in a specific order. I’ve been toying with images that keep being rediscovered…found in a new way. I haven’t really settled on any form or rules, but I’ve been obsessed with the idea of beauty rising out of the chaos of life and then disappearing again. Anonymous moments of beauty. I might be busy reinventing wheels, but that’s what I’ve been trying to discover.

  2. Hello Thank you for being so upfront and honest in your poem. Look forward to reading more.
    Good work
    Thanks Cyril

      1. Always Welcome.angiemflanagan.Are you interested to write articles through our blog.?

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