Thanksgiving Break

By Tal T

Standing on the world’s terrace

The cold hits me from all sides

It blows my hair back and forth like branches in the wind

I stare into a mini universe made up of concrete skyscrapers and people walking 10 miles per hour with everywhere and nowhere to go

The black stilloute of buildings reflect against the streaks of the color that fill the sky

The yellow, orange, pink, and blue scattered everywhere

Like Jackson Pollock gone mad

Yet somehow it still seems to work

From the atlantic ocean that stretches out to Eurpoe, to the island that was a military post used in the revolutionary war

From the sculpture gifted by the french in 1884, to the 1792 foot building that memorializes the twin towers

From the bridge built 148 years ago, whose construction took the lives of 21 people, to the river that runs into the countryside

How can one singular city seem so big

How is it possible I seem so small when standing in front of it And how many ideas and thoughts must I have in order to fill it Staring the city in the face makes all my problems seem so small

My dog tugs at his leash, wanting to go inside and escape from the cold The pressure on my hand brings me back to reality

The sky is now black, the tourists desperse, and I walk the two blocks home