by David Stone
It’s not world peace
not even the end of hunger
It isn’t fairness, respect
or inspiration
A search for words
futile as perfect love,
a tune heard early
then lost among songs
It isn’t even brotherhood
Tuning fork you are
the search for perfect pitch
harmonies lifting
within a symphony
more dense than Turangalîla
In the careful curve of time
something wants to bend
just so, to curl
around the note
and lift the endless music
slightly
Recommended: Time Passes
Unequal Bargains
The Screen We Could Not See
On June 18, the Roosevelt Island Operating Corporation’s Real Estate Development Advisory Committee gathered to discuss ground leases, the master retail lease, and the ten additional years being offered under the Island’s master lease. Howard L. Polivy, the committee’s chair, opened the meeting as a longtime host shows guests through a familiar house, pointing out the furniture as if it had never moved an inch.
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