It’s raining again on Pender Street
and people walk with their umbrellas,
circles of color, black shells.
and the wind blusters through
flips the spokes inside out,
I’m askew too,
from entryway to awning,
When the rain stops, the flooded streets
become a mirror for the sky.
Sidewalks multiply the geometry of office buildings,
I step forward,
skyscrapers rippling out under my feet.