Sunday Evening In New York
Sunday afternoon
The cares of the week have lost their edge
The pace is manageable
Sunday papers read from cover to cover
Times sprawled on the couch
Daily News in the kitchen
Nearby empty breakfast dishes.
A quiet wistfulness steals over Sunday
As afternoon turns to evening
People out walking dogs
Strolling home
Running along the river
Everyone trying to make twilight last a little longer
The ever present sirens
Sound melancholy
Couples reluctantly say goodbye
Parting at street corners and brownstones
A man helps a woman into a cab
And watches it pull away
On a late Sunday afternoon.
Young lovers
Wait in a subway
He holds her close
She holds him tighter
As her train rushes by
She is not surprised
Nor is she angry
Because she knows he wants to see her again.
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