Downtown Detroit

I see skyscrapers lonely against the sky.
There are more pigeons than people.
No buses or taxis.  Just a few cars.
Stores are locked or chained shut.
I am afraid to ask a panhandler for directions.
There are some buildings across the river
on the far shore of what may be another country.

I think back to when I was a boy,
and my parents drove me downtown
to watch the trains come into the station
but now there are only empty tracks.
The old train station is an abandoned ruin.
Its broken windows stare like jagged teeth
of wild beasts roaming within its broken walls.

Suddenly a policeman wearing dark glasses
and mounted on a white stallion
stares down and asks me who I am
and what I am doing here.

“Officer, I am a visitor,
trying to find my way back to my hotel.”
“You must be mistaken, sir.
All the hotels are vacant now.
No one comes down here anymore.
Can’t  you see.  This is a dead city.”

I hear a cell phone ringing.  Can it be my own?
A dark cloud of pigeons hangs in the sky.