Lost in Loss

Summer was the worst…

He never bumped into anyone from the old days,

as hot and humid wanderings left him bereft in the city.

He often retraced his steps,

a peek into the neighborhood Dollar Store,

entering old brownstones in his neighborhood,

scanning directories in office buildings,

always finding nothing remotely familiar.

And Central Park…

Why were the birds so quiet and hidden nowadays?

Were the trees always this big,

or did he just not look heavenward as often?

Midtown…

So few buses now,

so many bumper-to-bumper cabs and Ubers

crawling past sidewalk sales of knock-offs

spread out for sucker sales.

Downtown…

Bodegas replaced by high-end boutiques.
Why did they take away phone booths,

that private place for intimate teen chats,

arrows and hearts, graffiti and anger?

School days…

PS 64 is but a memory, a recollection of Miss Harvey

always at her desk hours after the halls were empty,

grading papers into the wee hours…

He wonders why he can’t find the street.

Tomorrow’s another day…

He’ll tour again,

hoping he’ll meet someone

to show him the way

and direct him to a place to sleep,

as he has no return ticket

to wherever he came from today.

Or was it yesterday?