The Dead Poet rating “A” makes my heart sing
And a photo is like capturing a moment in time
Fireflies in a jar, blowing dandelions into the wind with a wish
Hanging on like a trapeze artist – grace and daring
A sliver of time, a glance, a kiss – your hand holding mine
We walk down the avenue and I’m aware my naiveté is masked
Under several Tito’s and tonic; but I’m happy, I am happy
And in that instant, that few block walk, nothing else seemed to matter
Uber ride from the west side; 13 minutes.
Ferry ride across the Hudson; 9 minutes
Reality seeps in and the weight of the Palisade Heights
Come tumbling down with a flare and all the dramatic effect
The goddess can muster; a way to wake me up
But the view; ah it continues to take my breath away…
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