Trees bend at the waist
Shed brightly colored leaves
Chased like children by ghosts
Their bodies discarded in grieving piles
In empty alleys
Sky, a wet blanket
Ruptures into murderous rain
Rushes through the courtyards
Drowning dogwoods and cherry trees
Swamps city roads
Carrying plastic, bottles, clothes
Broken branches and shoes of children
In a whirling torrent to the Tidal Basin
In the tomb of the city
The holler of thunder echoes on rooftops
Lightning smears the faces of buildings
Candles in windows tremble
Parked cars bob and boats rip
Off the moorings
Outside, shrill voices of fire trucks
Reverberate like violent beats
Like my own heart.
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