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.
The dawn carries a different darkness.
The world holds its breath,
Ready to unfurl into the light.
Cities sleep, the pulse of the streetlights bright against the night.
Sun is coming, and within it I am alive.
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.
Nighttime in Brooklyn
It is so easy,
To be lonely in this city.
At nighttime the windows light up,
Lives so colorful in a few buildings,
The Christmas lights,
The green wall.
It is peaceful to watch the curtains mute the lamplight.
It is calm to be one window in a city of millions.
I wonder if you can see my plants on the windowsill across the way.