Sixth Avenue

I like to walk up Sixth Avenue —

From where the Village streets bend,

To the ivory towers of the Messengers,

Where I feebly attempt to comprehend

My place in this world, the facts of this life,

The pursuit of what’s just and what’s true.

I sit for a spell, watching taxis go by,

While people make haste on their way

And then I walk south,

Through the bead shops and jungles,

The Twenties’ firs, flowers, and palms,

Past bedight fabrics spun,

Silks a most royal blue,

Continuing, in a trance,

Beside a setting sun,

As I walk down Sixth Avenue.

Poet’s note:

This is my first publication on Medium. I went to school in Manhattan and always enjoyed hiding in my mind and walking up and down the Avenue of the Americas, which soon became a beloved muse and my home. Its colorful, diverse landscape through the Flower and Garment Districts up to Rockefeller Center inspired me — whether it was to simply walk or depict the bustling world of Manhattan in a few short words for others to enjoy. Thank you for reading.