Based on a dream I had...

Central Park Stroll


For John Lennon



I saw you once
From the corner of a filthy Manhattan block
Where music of working class chatter and taxi cabs
Met and played loudly
Near the precipice of the park entrance

With the symphony of the honking horns in your ears
I saw you glide into the traffic
Your long overcoat
Black as the coffee you loved to drink
Sways free amidst the chaos
In the middle of the street
Holding tightly at your side
A book of red leather



As I spied you I wondered
If I followed
Would I be able to live your history
Simply by treading
Slowly
Unconventionally
Like the rhythm
To the words
Of your greatest daydreams
On these same ancient cobblestones
That you’ve placed your feet upon
Would I only be able to understand then?


Would I know if it was worth it in the end?
To run inside that darkened empty vestibule
On that warm December night
To collapse upon its single stair of marble
Shivering
Breathing faster
Soaked in the blood of your 40 years
Grappling with an unstable heart
Left shattered as the glass of the doorman’s gold-plated cave
Where the silver and red bullets lie
Outside the dusty gray fortress
Where your youngest son lies upstairs sleeping.

I abandoned the thought as quickly as you left
And I strained my eyes to see
Your fading silhouette in the distance
For I decided it was best
To watch you disappear
Untethered
Behind the rows of tall willow trees
That sway in protest to the absent sun
Amidst the heavy crowds of passersby
Clogging the infinitesimal pathway
Until you vanished completely from my vision
And pausing to retrieve my breath
I turn my back, satisfied
And cross over to the next street.