whichever you prefer,
I am Claire, and I am your daughter, though you may not know me among your hundreds of other children.
We walk in the Historic Shadows of your Historic Halls.
We sit on oversized buttons and under LOVE statues that are perhaps too small.
You may not know me, but I know you.
So much more than melted cheese on meat in buns,
Even more than history and cobble stones.
Philadelphia, My lovely Philadelphia,
You are murals of trash on walls, Glass becoming sunshine- glowing.
You are gratified South St. where people are not afraid to live, where rainbows fly high, and I have danced in the heaviest of rain.
You are streets lit up with yellow lights sending beams reflecting and refracting on snow, or maybe its just powdered glitter. And under white precipitate blankets that morning- Silence. As even the birds sleep in.
You are Odunde with bright colors flashing and deep rumbling drums bringing the core of other lands to my sidewalk.
Philadelphia, My sweet Philadelphia,
You are quaker peace, but never submissive.
You are enduring old and sparkling new.
You are bike rides along muddy rivers and the brightest of the reddest leaves
You are winters much too cold and dry, and summers much too hot and humid.
You are red brick and blue skies and howling howling winds
Philadelphia, My darling Philadelphia,
You are SEPTA which I sometimes hate, but freedom which I always love.
You are more than just a grid
You are so much better than the history books say
Dependable and trustworthy,
You were always the best of mothers.
Philadelphia, My lovely, sweet, darling Philadelphia
To the city of brotherly love, here is a daughters feelings, overflowing in blue pencil, too much to fit on a page.
Philly you are my heart,
Existing above and bellow me in peace and tumult.
But most importantly,
You are mine.
And I am yours.
Truly and Forever,