They shield each other from the wind
And, weaving a skyline
They present it as a gift to busy New Yorker
They make waves of morning sunlight
In which birds swim
Inside these buildings
Where so many people dwell—
Working, loving, reconciling
Dreaming of the future—
It is a place of solidarity with
Even to that solitary, high-priced tower standing alone
Upper East Side
Tribeca
Hudson Yards
They send forth their light
Radiating the warmth of presence
Sharing in ceaseless communication—
Between mountains and rivers around grasslands—
They serve as sanctuaries of the street
Enduring rainstorms and blizzards of starvation
Propping one another up—
These buildings—unlike that one—are not lonely.
To Henry Levine