1993

In 1993 I walked the rubble strewn streets with a heavy heart. Mary lost her son and ball-cap man was looking for him. The buildings seemed to grown taller as I walked past them. Blades of concrete grass, gray and stark, blending in with the dull gray sky. The lights sparkling, spots of glow I see through my glasses, as the fog began to form. Central Park was wet as ever, ducks quaking, I threw crackers at them till they let me be. I pass Ball-Cap Man again and he told me he found Mary's son. He told me that he was now safely resting in his mothers arms, still as a stone. The red glow of the neon signs and lights danced around the city, like artificial flames, lighting up the foggy night. "All is well" , says Ball-Cap Man, "All is well..."