Pater/Son

We are all drawn to Paterson
In the eternal dance between
Father and son
Baptized and blessed under
Electric waterfalls
Time doesn’t move but
We age slowly
Buildings crumble and fall
Like skeletons the
Skin of this city peeling
Unknowingly
I would burrow into the
Silken history of
Hard work and calloused hands
But there are things to do
And there are suns to set
And there is no place
For us here