Retreat Poem by Ames Petrossi

i am hip bones digging
sharp into mossgrey stone.
i am biting off peace
in early morning frost,
staring placid at the Hudson,
as it flows both
North and South,
indecisive river.

i am here, that is all.
inhale. exhale.
first smiling serene,
then bracing against torment.
counting cars jerked
by pitbull engines
along tracks on the opposite shore.
75, then 125, then 64.
time passes notably
without fuss.

high volume vibrato
of pipsqueak finches
compliment symphonic
the chug and grunt of tugboats
pushing leviathan ships against physics,
miraculously remaining afloat
as do i.

i am meditating,
on the matrimony of industry and nature,
searching for succor on the steps
of a crumbling history,
silently stumbling into
grime dusted vaults
that pockmark my mind.

i am better
at cracking codes
than i think i am.