downtown
Mannahatta
I was asking for something specific and perfect for my city,
Whereupon lo! upsprang the aboriginal name.
…
Rich, hemm’d thick all around with sailships and
steamships, an island sixteen miles long, solid-founded,
Numberless crowded streets, high growths of iron, slender,
strong, light, splendidly uprising toward clear skies.
…
The summer air, the bright sun shining, and the sailing
clouds aloft,
The winter snows, the sleigh-bells, the broken ice in the river,
passing along up or down with the flood-tide or ebb-tide,
The mechanics of the city, the masters, well-form’d,
beautiful-faced, looking you straight in the eyes.
…
A million people – manners free and superb – open
voices, hospitality, the most courageous and friendly
young men,
City of hurried and sparkling waters! city of spires
and masts!
City nested in bays! my city!
poem from walt whitman, photo from stuart

Advertisement