Within these spaces that we reside...

It's been two weeks since my last posting. I have been away and did not have access to the computer on a consistent basis. The writing below touches on the value we place as New Yorkers on the small spaces we are afforded to live in. Living space is an issue on a island like Manhattan. I once lived in a small flat on West 85th Street between Columbus Avenue and Amsterdam Avenue on the upper west side. This writing is in memory of that space on 85th Street;

West 85th Street Flat
(or, spaces we dwell in...)

In this autumn light
a mere fraction of the city’s
silhouetted, skylined, sky-scaped
landscape appears
from where I sit, on balcony.
The day’s near end.

One returns
to find empty rooms
as we left them so in hurry
in the morning’s brutal light rising...
Last night’s clothes tangled
in odd forms, dangles
and linger on the disheveled bed.
The coffee pot with unfinished liquid...
A letter half-opened waiting to be a voice...
Still life(s) of our urbane
existence.

Now, within sanctuary of home
however small.
Space measured by footage.
Like being within ourselves
these walls of wood and sheet rock
express us to those who may enter
such narrow hallways.

Within this space we make–
the thrills and downfalls
of every day echo
and find some resolution.

Here in this cockpit
I plot my course;
pilot-like, wanting to touch down
in what will tomorrow bring
with sleep’s landing strip approach...