Sometimes a crumb falls
From the tables of joy,
Sometimes a bone
To some people
Love is given,
Langston Hughes (1902-1967)
So what does the poem Luck has to do with an expatriate in New York?
Apparently, a lot. Lots of luck ...
It's been six years. Six years away from my family and friends that was made easy by your charm and beauty I've never seen elsewhere. Someday if I may be away to make room for younger dreamers, remember that once I was on your shores dazzled by what you laid on my lap.
I love you, New York!
Photos by Luchelle del Rosario, Abegail Ballesteros and Marilen Clemente