This is a poem that I wrote while crossing the George Washington bridge during a thunderstorm sometime last week. Such storms are quite awe-inspiring – flashes of light illuminating the city skyline whilst suspended over the fog-covered Hudson river…Enjoy…

A translation of Haig’s “The Final Sprint”

This is a poem that I wrote while on a commuter bus into the city.  There was an exceptional amount of traffic into the city due to a stalled tractor-trailer in the Lincoln Tunnel.  New Jersey Transit remedied the traffic situation by diverting about a hundred buses or so to Secaucus junction in order to use the trains…This gave me just enough time to drift away and write this…

Haig’s “My Heart”