Sandy

At long last, 
plunging into the 
underground, the
arteries of her city.
The beating hearts
of subway trains,
silenced
in her storm.

Oh, the blustery
kisses pressed to the forehead
of Manhattan
to get that feisty soul
to sleep. 
Dark, dark,
a firework crack
past 39th. 
Sweet dreams, baby.
Look at those stars, 
Through her eyes,
the blue-
speckled with electricity.

And New York hadn't breathed that deep
ever, sitting in darkened apartments,
listening to 
her lullabies, tender cooings
of the dreams to be had.

Weeping all across the island,
lachrymose in midtown,
the dark square of Central Park
all over again,
christmas tree bulbs
crackling down the avenues.

Her strong arms cradling 
the taxis, swathed in her 
body,
washing over, over-
here, she makes her home.