Gondola Lift

We must cross a river, whenever possible, by ferry or lift
Roosevelt Island’s via dolce which benefits
You & me with the most coruscating skyline
That we could a stranger offer anon.

Put me in the front seat, or the back, & let me rock
Easily in wind & rain & the celestial night
Of trembling lights where air pushes still
From the floor of tourists in awe,

Manhattan Gondola, you win my heart each time I stand swaying
To the rhythm & cacophony of words in languages known
& unknown. Yet suddenly familiar, I lean left to leave his
Mobile’s POV — recording me — accidentally in peace.

© 2016 Anna Mosby Coleman