The Dawn! The Dawn! The crimson-tinted, comes
Out of the low still skies, over the hills,
Manhattan’s roofs and spires and cheerless domes!
The Dawn! My spirit to its spirit thrills.
Almost the mighty city is asleep,
No pushing crowd, no tramping, tramping feet.
But here and there a few cars groaning creep
Along, above, and underneath the street,
Bearing their strangely-ghostly burdens by,
The women and the men of garish nights,
Their eyes wine-weakened and their clothes awry,
Grotesques beneath the strong electric lights.
The shadows wane. The Dawn comes to New York.
And I go darkly-rebel to my work.
I feel like it is time I give an explanation on this format of posts. So far I have released a poem about London, Paris and now New York. All of these cities are places that I dream of going to (even though I’ve already been in London more times than I can count). They are big historical cities that hold a lot of meaning in the world. I selected these specific poems because I think that they capture the essence of the given city in a beautiful way – painting a picture for dreamers like myself. For what shall I do with myself if not wonder?