Pittsburgh is a state of mind,
And it is with this mentality that I
Went for a walk the other evening.
The three rivers of my mind coalesced
At a fixed point,
Leading me to a door on the sidewalk
In front of a ramshackle house,
Of which a stained-glass window depicting a rose
Was the only object of color
In an otherwise black and white world.
Scarlet crimson, absinthe green,
It called out to me,
Urging me not to plunge into the void
That awaited me on the other side.
I am too often a solitary creature,
Refusing company so as to be alone.
Climbing up the hill, the streetlights illuminate my thoughts.
The smell of nature, intoxicating.
A pine needle finds its way into my vein
And injects there an ample dose of melancholy and nostalgia
As Los Angeles sparkles below like a million diamonds.
© Chester Sakamoto