I see the shine of the buildings,

The glassy effect of the high rises,

The brick stones of once those commuters of the 1800s

Sparks of curiosity flow through my veins,

It gets me going through the pandemic – 

The thought of how a city built from scratch – 

A single piece of dough knelt to produce bread, 

Can be the most world-renown city on earth.

Closing my eyes,

The flowy breeze of city fumes familiarizes my sense of Central Park.

The music created where my feet flow,

Dress twirls,

The 5th Avenue streets control my dizziness of happiness.

“Mommy, I made it” ring through my adult lips of laughter.

Microphone in hand,

Crowds cheer to my triumph for my homerun towards my high rise,

Steve Lacy’s tunes comforting my mind as my eagle eyes gaze upon go-getters like me.

My feet become ballerina shoes twirling in my imaginative dreams of life.

I cry myself to sleep every night – 

Starstruck at how amazing a dream really can be

The city of opportunity lines my desk wall – 

I stare at the printer cut-outs  – 

Music blasting in old AirPods – 

Sending comforting messages to bless my ears.

A picture of me with my arms up euphorically – 

Pretending to be a performer foregrounds a list of radical hopes.

My “WORK TOWARDS NEW YORK” Post-It note stares back – 

At my face of tears.