Sonnet to New York

Spire, to spire, to spire, the city stands;
The sun glides down glass and steel and stone.
There’s roar of traffic—-statues wave their hands—
And voices laughing through a “Don’t Walk” zone.
Tower to tower to tower the city spreads;
Executives up high give orders true;
Below, ballet-ers practice, plays are read,
On every corner bankers sip hot brew.
Train to train to train is thund’ring low;
The city’s heart is beating, even, sure.
The sun is catching faces—“What’s up?” “Oh,
What wonder is this wond’rous place to know!”
Spire, to spire, to spire, the city winks;
It’s night, and “I am great,” the city thinks.

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