In New York City

I'd stumble down Hudson from the meat-packing district

Toward the studio flat that I shared with a friend

My bed gainst the window with bars to the street

Impatiently wanting my life to begin

Surrounded by photos, my first love from college.

one night I got high and I took someone else home

I broke an engagement too poor for a ring

I was twenty three, thinking I'd die alone.

In New York City

I moved to a studio in the East Village

11th and first where cabs idled in line

Drug dealers owned all the corners at night

I could barely afford it but it was all mine

That was my life in my 20s and 30s

I walked through Manhattan and never got tired

Used books on the street in bins for a dollar

Speakeasys with sawdust and dogs by the fire

In New York City

A few years later I was living in Brooklyn

married, divorced, I'd moved out on my own

To a basement apartment that faced the cathedral

A narrow backyard made of round paving stones

Where I planted a garden of roses and thyme

Spent mornings in prayer with coffee and clouds

Wrote everything down in a flurry of heartbreak

Sang all my sadness for crowds

In New York City

Now, I'm far from the city and far from the Village

My favorite café was turned into a chain

I sat in the corner and wrote out my verses

Stretching my coffee and watching the rain

But now I know what age does to memory

It softens the edges and everything's blurred

It fills in the gaps with regret and romance

Am I really that many years from that girl?

There's lines on my face and my long hair is grey

But I look at the photos from decades ago

There's something about her I may have lost

There's so much I want to know

New York City