New York In Sunlight Poem by Frank Bana

New York in sunlight
In the One World century
I see it all
From the 14th floor
The blue hidden tribune
Flowing past the national flags
That the diplomats hoist high
And from metal poles remove

It is too much you ask of me
To justify my work in money
And make a meaning of it too
As if a living soul will care
About anything I do
Once the millions depart this Isle
And survivors are repaired

Music was made in churches
People's songs and pagan poetry
Down this river you could smell the blood
Taste the dust of exploded flesh
Watch the smoke rising for days
Wait for songs to rise again

Trapped here by the passing years
The rooftops empty down below
Empty of their gardeners
While the blossoms and Tudor leaves
Grow and fall
Fall and grow

I call to every circumstance:
For this you do not need me
I was not born like this to burn
I call on you to free me
From these ruled and empty lines
I have promised to return
Set me free and loose upon the world.