A poetic reflection on New York City’s first elevated rail trail, the High Line.
Poem: “The High Line”
Ancient steel rails, long without burdens, cradled now in new concrete, perform a snake-like dance. Undulating close to neighboring buildings, they offer seductive photo ops with every turn. Here, where walking feels like low flight, sunlight dances on the Hudson to the murmuring accompaniment of a thousand international voices, while river winds give wildflowers softly flowing motion and whisper rustling secrets through the trees.
Copyright 2016 Jeffrey Ben Berman
All Rights Reserved