New York Rush
Peregrine falcons curl up and cry
Screeching from skyscrapers
Their forests died
Light forsaken
Rivers of people
Looking up
Gaping
Ballasts unburdened
Ships did make them
Walkways of mayhem
Tunnels and sewers
Steam underground
Best party brewers
Lifelines indoors
Nervous system endures
Asbestos air smothers
Speed wins undercover
Families hold tight
Their crumbling monasteries
Luxuries
Gliding on
Polluted soup estuaries
City of might
City of blight
Enter at your own risk
By the lady with the light
Steeple
Stripped down
The one who wears the crown
Grows to great heights
Tallest tree in sight
Left standing
Alone
Its network
Dethroned
Avenues laid bare
Redwood dust kicks up
Blank stares
Lift an ax to this god?
Beware
Battlefield
Might as well be blind
Facing you
So unkind
Losing my mind
Forest sits
Looking on
Bending to calm
Charms are gone
Years undone
Meanness won
Battle drum
Poet’s Time
Light step, star lady
Sing a song
Stop the world
From falling long
Into the depths
Of wishes wronged
Pierce the layer
Silent sayer
Time will warp
To hear the prayer
Stillness leans
Into breath’s beams
A pause
Applause
Where words
Birth dreams
Amanda Niamh Dawson lives with her family in Northern California. Born in London to Irish parents and raised in the Boston area, she attended Tufts University, the Ecole du Louvre, and Sorbonne University. Amanda worked in Books & Manuscripts and in Old Master Paintings at Sotheby’s New York, then at Gourmet and House Beautiful. A poem received an award in the 2023 Poetry Society of Michigan’s Peninsula Poets Contest. Her work has appeared recently in The Dewdrop, The Banyan Review, The Ulu Review, The Ekphrastic Review, The Piker Press, Illumen, and is currently in Pomona Valley Review and The Seventh Quarry. Instagram: @thedawsonian
