At a Hoboken quay, listening to the echo Of foghorns and the slap of waves against The piers, the heart grows silent.

And the quick hours in that north I spent thawing my frozen mouth Against your body of stars, arches, Downy paths, secret mazes,

Begin to loom before my eyes Like these Manhattan towers Wreathed in wispy oceanic mists.

Note: One great advantage (apart from the low state taxes) of living across the Husdon from New York City are these very lovely views one is granted of this locus, this hive of human life.