I walked down the stairs of a factory building in TriBeCa
And stepped into a bright blue Roman bath for ninety minutes of bliss.
Walking back to my house I stopped for a watermelon salad at an outdoor cafe
With a big black clock and a pianist in front of a hotel that seemed stuck in time.
On my way back through SoHo to the Village,
I saw West Broadway filled with lights and the happy noise of people eating and laughing
Then I looked around and -- just like that --
I saw the giant Freedom Tower sparkling behind me --
A beacon of hope of a city resurrected after 9/11 --
But, it wasn’t until I hit Houston Street
That I suddenly realized that the shop windows
That were smashed in the riots only two months ago
Had been replaced and that those boarded up storefronts were open for business again.
That’s New York,
I thought to myself as I rounded the corner onto Washington Place,
An endless cycle of birth and destruction,
A city that burns and rises from the ashes
The city that I call home.
Aug. 13, 2020