The Ill-Tempered Cavalier
My considered successes are not listed on my resume
No need to speak of my failures, I’m acutely aware of them
Expect withdrawal from people, places and things
Callous time has no concern
As to when or why it clipped your wings
Buried in the shadows
A bit of bitter love remains
The intrinsic value of the spirit
Is measured by its reverberations
I don’t believe in reincarnation
If it is an unnatural fact
I would like to return
As an American Bald Eagle
To be a bird of prey
Instead of one
Who is preyed upon
I recall the moment
When I saw grass and a flower
Growing through a crack
On the third-floor window ledge
Of the building where I was employed
Mother nature staking its claim
Against man’s unnatural terrain
Leave me with my precious memories
Of what New York City used to be
Affordable rents, room to breath
A citizenry that used to be free