From Brooklyn

Along the shore
A black net of branches
Tangles the pulpy yellow lamps.
The shell-colored sky is lustrous with the fading sun.
Across the river Manhattan floats—
Dim gardens of fire—
And rushing invisible toward me through the fog,
A hurricane of faces.

This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on April 17, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.