Brooklyn And Queens. Poem by Subhadip Bhattacharya

Walking down the big street around the block,
Big marble stone walls, large granite on the pavement.
Cold winter in city outskirts, seldom vehicles passing by.
Street lights lit up in thin still cold air,
The bridge crossing the street, clear water downstream.
Cold, cold...cold water, cold air, cold surround
I jive in my warm jacket,
And ask the single stones protruding out
If they are still looking for a mate.
If not they are not already comfortable
Being single.

Walking, like walking on a ramp,
Big buildings over the block, sadness of the evening
And yet not getting hurt.
Just taking it on as it comes.
I am comfortable in my tunics and blue jeans.
In snow if you wear sneakers you will get good grip.
I know.
Grips the warmth of the cold
Grips the head, chilled, stoned of cold.
Some birds fly by, a man far off.

I am an ordinary man who doesn't know the future.
Soft and yet so strong,
Grand and wide....
That's the mystic of the western world.
The American world. Brooklyn and Queens
And Bronx.
And yet, and yet...
The heart thumps as we keep walking.