after Federico García Lorca
By Daphne Holley
Dusk in New York arrives,
Breaking free of its chains.
Dusk in New York means
Shops closing down for the night
And restaurants opening,
Setting up for the influx of customers.
Dusk in New York sighs
As boats glide across the water
And tourists stop in front of landmarks,
Snapping photograph after photograph.
Dusk envelopes the sky,
Depriving us of daylight
It replaces it instead with a full moon
And a sky full of stars.
On the other side of the world,
Dusk in Paris is similar.
The street merchants pack up
And close up shop
Residents remove clothes from the clothesline
Tourists return to their hotels
A dog yaps happily in the distance
A man arrives home from work,
Tossing a cigarette butt to a nearby bush.
Dusk in Paris exhales,
Listening to the hum of the warm wind
Against the windows of family homes
A car zips by,
Smoke escapes a chimney,
A rat sits by a storm drain,
An elderly woman moves slowly down the street,
A cafe worker works overtime,
Most likely pondering on her hopes and dreams,
A cat perches on a potted plant,
Observing the cloudy sky.
A few doors slam,
Followed by the jingle of a bell,
Leaving thousands of stories behind.
A dragon,
A knight,
A princess awaits her hero.