City Bike

I breath the cold air of

the city, the drench of

old, rats and sewer.

I pass the old man,

sitting on the corner who

whistles at the young blonde

here for the summer.

I smile to the baby,

sitting in her stroller

laughing at what I think

is her mother.

I spot the old city bikes,

resting on the corner,

and the taxis rushing

through the cities boroughs.

I stop for a moment,

for a beautiful women.

who stands calmly in a

long white dress.

Autumn leaves flowing,

to the music of the Beatles

surrounding the memorials.

I turn to my street and

look down at my PJ's,

for this was just an

early breath of fresh air.

Oh, how I love my city.