By the River

The scent of marijuana wafts

Right by me on the air.

I do not see the smoker and

I really do not care.

 

A motorboat is bouncing

On the river; it its wake

Two jet ski riders race on by,

Like winning is at stake.

 

The ferries pick up passengers,

Discharge the ones on board.

Some swallows swoop past people’s heads

But mostly, they’re ignored.

 

As runners jog and cycles roll

And exercisers walk,

I sit and watch the human stream

That flows here in New Yawk.

 

The city’s lost some sizzle

And may not regain its glow,

But when I sit by the river,

It’s the city that I know.