Look! I can see a plain old tugboat towing
her charge down the Hudson where sea craft vie,
for the Big Apple is alive and growing
under a glorious September sky.
Far below cars and buses jostle by,
across streets and avenues overflowing
with humanity, everywhere I
look. I can see a plain old tugboat towing
an ocean liner from her berth and slowing
before releasing her manila tie
to a plume of whistle steam, thus bestowing
her charge down the Hudson where sea craft vie.
But by this office window up on high,
another world of finance is ongoing,
pure humdrum drudgery (although I try),
for the Big Apple is alive and growing.
Yet through my musing I enjoy knowing
a certain peace. It seems a shame, I sigh,
that one must work on such a morning glowing
under a glorious September sky . . .
Look! I can see a plane
2nd Place William Stafford Memorial Award National Federation of State
Poetry Societies Annual Competition 2004