Walking the High Line

Once abandoned railroad tracks
Up above the street,
The High Line’s been transformed
Into a magical retreat.

Below, it’s busy as can be
With traffic, noises, soot;
But on the High Line, quiet reigns
And flowers are afoot.

An urban meadow’s how it feels
With grasses, benches, art;
Though only three floors from the ground,
It seems a world apart.

And oh, the views! Look to the east,
A cityscape looms large.
The Hudson River, on the west,
Holds ferry, tug and barge.

It’s lovely to meander
On this haven built above,
An elevated Eden
Every visitor must love.