New York Beacon

by Walt Trizna

Driving along in New York City
One cold stark Saturday night,
The city alive, the tenements dark
Save a harsh fluorescent light.

What were you doing that Saturday night?
Making love, planning your life
That dark Saturday night,
That cold Saturday night.

I saw your light, that lonely light
That cold dark Saturday night.
In the distance a beacon calling us home
As we wandered through darkness that night.

The city was dark, the hope departed
That cold stark Saturday night.
But work was done and dreams were dreamed
In the shadows that journey towards light.

That time is gone, that time is past
Yet my mind recalls the sight
Of you alone amidst the sea,
That fluorescent beacon of light.

You planned, you dreamed, you lived your life,
That cold dark Saturday night.
Where are you now, what have you become?
A demon, a memory, a light.

Did you succeed, did you escape?
Did you survive your plight?
Does your beacon still shine showing the way
As we journey this lonely night?