New York Harbor
Leaf and flower
Have fallen in the wind
A petal gone
The ocean never ends
The sea mist comes
An unexpected guest
As even now
The gray moon lingers west
What little air
Has blown with pure scent
My father gone
The door from which he went
As dust is dry
It finds its life frontier
But loses track
A line of song unclear
I stop to stare
The dead moon’s life reflection
But quiet now
I walk without direction
View from Central Park
as fog hangs over
the tops of buildings
touched by limbs
of bare-branched trees
in awe
I feel the autumn morning
this winter
in Manhattan
