Cry to the Poets of the Lake District

There was a roaring in the wind all night

The rain came heavily and fell in floods

But now the sun is rising calm and bright

The birds are singing in the distant woods

Not all dreams come true

Sometimes that’s all they are

The rumbles of the subway train wake me up

I’ve missed my stop

The streets greet me with the large, unblinking eyes of stray cats

Focused, crouched, bellies to the pavement

Sparrows at pretzel crumbs on concrete

A teenager busks by the tunnel entrance

Wave after wave of crowd bush past them and their open guitar case

Peace waiting to be found in the noise

Beauty in the alleys behind glowing hotels

Salty harbour air carries sweet aftertaste

Neon suns burning through eyelids and cast bright shadows

Over his own sweet voice the Stock-dove broods

The Jay makes answer as the Magpie chatters

And all the air is filled with pleasant noise of waters