(no subject)
I just found this gorgeous poem in the Paterson Literary Review #30.
It's so right on.:
The Last View of New Jersey -- As We Head to the Skies
by Barbra Louis
I am returning to California -- my new home -- from my true home -- New Jersey.
I hope to be able to see the New York skyline and Statue-of-Liberty but I am sitting on the New Jersey side of the plane and as we depart I see the urban sprawl -- the oil tanks and freight loading platforms of the shipyards --
Is this the real New Jersey? The one that most travelers see -- or is my New Jersey the real one?
The beautiful lakes, streams, mountains, farms and rural areas where I grew up.
I only wish that the passengers who travel through Newark airport could see my New Jersey.
It's so right on.:
The Last View of New Jersey -- As We Head to the Skies
by Barbra Louis
I am returning to California -- my new home -- from my true home -- New Jersey.
I hope to be able to see the New York skyline and Statue-of-Liberty but I am sitting on the New Jersey side of the plane and as we depart I see the urban sprawl -- the oil tanks and freight loading platforms of the shipyards --
Is this the real New Jersey? The one that most travelers see -- or is my New Jersey the real one?
The beautiful lakes, streams, mountains, farms and rural areas where I grew up.
I only wish that the passengers who travel through Newark airport could see my New Jersey.