saying goodbye to boston

i’ll start with the water (for it is not reminiscent anyways) always flowing,

ebbing beyond what I could grasp, slipping through painted toes and

eager hands it disappears as soon as it comes; rambling like the wind that

breezes against my back. I’ll stop for the streets (for they will not

stop for me) pulsing and forging a beat of their own

accord the streets carry hurried feet and

passerbys with worries tainting the cracks of

their faces they carry years on their backs, history engrained into

the roots of their ancestors they march a rhythm awoken by the

movement of these streets. I’ll wave the sun-kissed skyscrapers goodbye as

they rise while the sun falls, illuminating with the engulfing fire that

burned the hands of those who built them, shimmering and

colossal they stand, as stoic and stolid as their patrons, unwavered and

unapologetic they do not falter as they disappear, melting slowing into the

layers of the atmosphere. I’ll whisper a melodic hymn to the trees and

flowers budding breaking through once brittle branches, awoken by

the summer sun slowly breaking off the frost and fear of winter. I’ll awaken

the birds previously in sleep singing a song composed whistling with

winter wind and rise with their flight I’ll ascend beyond exhaust fumes and

a smogged horizon, beyond tempestuous winters and eager springs in

search of a place I used to reside, a place so foreign as

distant winter’s touch feels to me but I leave, as a ship holds steady to its

course, I leave Boston, carrying only a full heart and a fire lit by

a city I call home