Crossing Borders

Three museums knocked us out (Also, lots and lots of walking) When at last we stopped to eat And we somehow got to talking With the couple to our right (Quite delightful outdoor seating) When they pointed to our food, Asking, "What is that you're eating?" So we offered them a taste - All agreed it wasn't good - But a conversation followed, As we somehow knew it would. He, like us, was a New Yorker; She, Canadian, but still, We had lots of things in common And we all had time to kill. They were younger than our kids But nobody seemed to care, As we spoke of this and that In the balmy evening air. So we chatted, trading stories As we ate and sipped our beers, Such an unexpected pleasure, Crossing borders, lives and years.