A thunderstorm has come calling tonight.
Curled in my little room, drops land on my windows,
Run rivulets on the fire escape.
I close my eyes and listen to the sound of the rain.
I cannot wait to see the rainbows in the mists of a tomorrow’s sunny morning.
I know the sound of the streets in Manhattan,
My heart races with the G into the Brooklyn night.
I wonder why life is drawn in subway lines,
Where the heart is that these veins seek.
Who am I to map this corner of the universe,
My balcony a fire escape, to your views of the East River.
I live in one city and hundreds at once.