On the promenade
Cherry blossom petals litter the ground,
Various shades of bruised, decaying pink,
Others float in the air,
The new neon green leaves above almost blind me.
Across the brown East River
Manhattan’s monolithic skyline gleams in the noon sun.
Sounds of a typical city Tuesday afternoon drift toward me:
Cars honking their horns
Racing up and down the FDR and
The imposing Queensboro Bridge above.
The faint sound of wind and river waves
Pounding the shoreline underneath it all.
You brought me here twice.
The first time was on your birthday
I was in between my 4th and 5th chemo treatment,
Chronic fatigue slowed my pace,
I sat on benches to catch my breath
As we walked the promenade and talked about a future.
The following April
Cherry blossoms at their height,
Pink, frothy blooms reminding me of a birthday cake frosting.
My hair was long enough to get messed in the wind
We walked for hours
Taking pictures of the river and
The Brooklyn and Manhattan skyline at sunset
We talked about moving in.
I recall your somberness and distance,
Maybe it is just memory
Trying to find the cracks in the foundation
Before everything turned to dust.
I sit on a bench,
Watching a barge make its journey northward,
The memory of us has not tainted the beauty of this place
It remains unchanged-
Unlike myself and the sprawling city around me.
Losey Pezzullo has written poetry and short essays since childhood. Her writing has been featured in Unlimited Literature, Arts by the People Platform Review Anthology in 2017, and has performed her poetry and writing at various events and venues in NYC and NJ. She works as a mental health professional and resides in NYC.