Deserted Downtown

Sets another sun in the New York sky,
closing down those busiest lanes,
lingering wind from Hudson 
now returns to lay its claim.

I stood on the pier,
admiring the lady with the copper dress
and so did the moon from far above
clearing out the darkness.

I strolled on those deserted streets
wondering what sets night from the day,
the coffee houses turned upside down,
or the shuddering subways.

A slurring junkie walked by,
filling the marijuana in the air
a homeless cozying under the diner’s porch
the beleaguered Bull now lonely and scared.

Note: I wrote this poem on a winter night of 2016. Just because it’s a new norm today with the pandemic, doesn’t mean it feels normal. Experiencing an inactive, quiet New York is still as discomforting to me as it was back then.