Lost Cities. Poem by Geoffrey Fafard

They lay in my mind
Brimming with atrocity
Yet strangely full of hope
Buzzing hives of humanity
So full of individuality
Statues cold in nakedness
Fountains the same
School children in song
Madmen in song
And hobos in bins
Long avenues to climb
And bridges on bridges
You driving the taxi
Her serving my drink
Lost souls of my cities
Lost cities of my memories
They come humming back
On this quiet Sunday morning
Coffee in one hand
Words in the other