Dinner in the West Village

Old friends, dear old friends

Pasta and wine, steak and shrimp

Bottle o' white, bottle o' red

Let's walk! Find a bar! Keep the night going!

Wait, what's this staircase? Is this open?

Up we go.

Cool summer breezes, moon is shy

But there are four stars in the Manhattan sky

No, five, a bumper crop

Summer flowers, crawling ivy in bloom

Unexpected quartet quietly jamming

Lone saxophonist wails gently, farther on

People recline, lovers kiss in the shadows

We walk on, eyes averted

Name that flower! Name that plant!

We are not botanists

Old rusting ruin turned into something

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