Presents one person's pilgrimage back to the New York of his youth, where the City is seen not for the ghosts of junkies, musicians and ex-lovers that haunt it, but for the spiritual and creative possibility lurking in alleys and parks, and celebrated by street corner buskers and subway graffiti. This book looks at how in the right light of a Manhattan morning, a pigeon flying across First Avenue just might be one of Rilke's angels.