A tree grew in Brooklyn
with so much love all around to tickle the ivories
standing tall with all its strength and confidence
escalating to a higher level when the sun attention beamed.
In a flirtatious manner it would sway in the wind
and its unique beauty went echoing through the hills
gaining strength from surrender to the sparkles in the sky
and the ribbons of air that would scatter its leaves to fields.
Engaged in the moment when coming across its path
and burnished brown leaves from its arms fall short of your door
but when Sandy firmly squeezed it by its neck out of the ground
its breathless charm became no more.
With every ounce of strength, Sandy forced it to its defeat
the radiant tree that once grew in Brooklyn now journeying to heaven in the sky
and while falling claiming lives, breaking cars and trapping folks in homes
became the perfect time to hear Keely Smith singing her blues soliloquy.
For even though the storm is over and the rains and winds have passed away
up on the mound where the tree in Brooklyn grew is now just emptiness
and its sparkle loses glitter while the crowds draw near trying to own its history
for to walk away from Sandy's winds that made the tree fall, echoes miracles; blessed.