Missing NYC...

When with her clouds the early dawn illumes

Our doubtful streets, wistful they grow and mild

As if a sleeping soul grew happy and smiled,

The whole dark city radiantly blooms.

Pale spires lift their hands above the glooms

Like a resurrection, delicately wild,

And flushed with slumber like a little child,

Under a mist, shines forth the innocent Tombs.

Thus have I seen it from a casement high.

As unsubstantial as a dream it grows.

Is this Manhattan, virginal and shy,

That in a cloud, so rapturously glows?

Ethereal, frail, and like an opening rose,

I see my city with an enlightened eye.

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I have been missing new york for months now and in one week I will be back there!

all these pics are from previous endeavors to nyc!