Ryan Jones

Dear Atlanta, 

I've spent the better part

of my life trying to figure out

what makes you this special.

Have tried time and again

to distill your magic into words

that folks that aren't from here can understand.

But no matter how hard I try,

I can't seem to get it right.

What words could possibly capture

the spirit of the people here?

What words could bottle up

the love of a city too busy to hate?

What words could make you feel

the buzz of Edgewood Avenue

on a Friday night?

The pride that comes with

sharing the same city as

civil rights heroes both new and old?

The electricity of a Braves, Hawks,

Falcons, or United game?

Atlanta, what words could capture

the beauty of your skyline?

Could leave you with the taste

of a lemon pepper wing,

wet like they were meant to be?

What words could capture the joy

of Piedmont Park, and the chatter

of community? Could possibly portray

the wonder of riding MARTA

on the way to DragonCon?

Certainly not these ones.

Certainly not any that

I've ever used before.

Thinking about it,

maybe that's it.

You're too special for words.

Marthasville.

Terminus.

Atlanta.

I guess they'll just have to come

and feel the magic...

like we all do.