City Gift

Someday
at the Library Hotel,
I'll show you a balcony
and the stone lion view
across the avenue.
They've seen everything,
but don't crack a fang.

The junkie jugglers
and chessmen in Washington Square
will barely notice us
though we'll fly into Manhattan singing
the George Washington Bridge song.

I'll feed you pistachio gelato,
and jazz will dawn at sunset
in St Peters. I'll light a candle
for Prez and Papa Jo,
my swing saint guardian cats.

Gershwin's ghost will smile
on us from an invisible
all-night coffee shop
in Tin Pan Alley.

Books will whisper goodnight
from the snuggery of their shelves.

Sweet dreams, you timeless lovers,
drooping wide-eyed,
fallen into the blare
of sleepy night sleepy beats.