The quiet streets of Whitestone
keep calling me their way,
bidding me to trod alone
to the outlands
of College Point.
And ghosts
of long-ago movie starts
draw us
to feel the breeze
of Little Neck Bay
and skip stones
from the shady woods
of Crocheron Park.
We dip into some alien feast
with our worked hands
at all hours,
as the night life
of a thousand people
babbles around us
and the dreams of millions
chatter by.
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