Water Towers

They’re round and squat, with pointed hats,
Rise scattershot, like flowers.
If you live in New York, you know
I speak of water towers.

On many buildings, they’re not there,
Or else they’re strangely hidden.
The current crop of architects
Makes sight of them forbidden.

Yet to their humble grandeur
I am drawn; these building toppers
Appear so proud and yet forlorn,
Like scenes in many Hoppers.

So many passersby below
Don’t know that they exist;
But once you do, their charm
Is quite a challenge to resist.

I can’t in paint immortalize
The beauty of these towers;
But praising them in poetry
Is well within my powers.