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