Storm Over Manhattan
Couples are making for St. Mark's for cover,
as you cover me with your Donegal tweed
jacket, passed down from your second cousin
once removed, who was removed to Great Ormond
Street after Omagh. Omaha Nebraska you said
worth a trip once we'd find a way to come
through this dalliance of ours. Lightning strikes
the Empire State. Afterwards, hard rain speaks
volumes to empty streets in a language as fluid
as embraces throwing caution to the wind.
A force ten blows our hull and mast relationship
beyond Liberty. We will sail to the mouth
of the Bosphorus, where Judas trees bloom pink
over Istanbul in pursuit of Constantinople.
Copyright © Anne Fitzgerald 2012