floating towards ithaca

When I came back
the dust had settled,
leaves shook with torpor
under the pleas of a tired
breeze. The city receded into a corner
where she slept
fitfully.
The rumble beneath
my tattered shoes was not
her breath,
all of mankind shaking
her awake.
On the train into town
I met someone and she gifted me
a piece of paper
and asked me to write her
a note sometime.
Now the magic carpet has been lost
and she returned to the land
of mysteries and panic.