
On the Shore of the Hudson
The bridge, a bone stretched across the sky,beneath it the gray waves driven by wind;with every leaf that falls from

The bridge, a bone stretched across the sky,beneath it the gray waves driven by wind;with every leaf that falls from

That evening, the rain was not clothing the city but my soul; each drop whispered the hidden tears of the

Between the salt and the silence,a man holds his face like a borrowed mask.The horizon, a rusted blade,cuts the sky