Zona 8 Lifestyle

I have walked the streets at night alone.
I have seen the sights and heard the sounds of the city
Naked under the street lamps with all her secrets exposed.
I have seen her homeless,
Crouched and cold under cardboard boxes
And her wounded wandering the alleyways
With dull eyes and beaten brows.

I have seen her neons flashing with urgency,
Bidding their welcomes to corner bars and pool halls,
Her whores and pushers pooling like tears
On corners with payphones and porches of crack-barns.
I have seen her weep for her children,
And whisper of better days...

I have walked the streets at night alone.
I have seen the sights and heard the sounds of the city
Soft under silver wisps of moonlight, and stoic silence.
I have seen her sidewalks,
Concrete and colorless, crying out
To her blind businessmen decked in neckties and briefcases,
Trapped in their world of gray and green.
I have seen her mourning in Winter's silence
Our futile searches and our forgotten dreams.
I have seen her standing high above it all,
And all alone,
In her brick, and steel, and stone.


City Trip
by Cynthia L. Hoefling