The City

It is a city with its lurid lights lavishing upon the night Products hawked in gaudy neon Street lamps form uniform circles upon the pavement And traffic signals repeat themselves across the landscape A man with flat eyes pulls a blanket about him And clutches his dog, he puts his shoes beside him As if remembering when he had a bed Whores mingle by the fire plug and eye the traffic Their dignity sold by the hour And I walk there toward the same places As every night Jimmy told me that you came to the café Even though you asked him to say nothing of your visit He said you sat at our table and read a book He took your order of a coffee and asked about me And he said you looked very sad in that moment and shrugged And so each night I walk past the café windows Peering in like a street urchin and praying To see your face or that you will look up to see mine But you are not there And the excitement of hope drains from me like wet ashes I go to St. Joseph’s in the village And sit in the dark corner below the choir loft Hoping you will come as we did each Sunday But you do not. You do not come And I am happy to be in church To pray for you, that blessings fill your days And that I might be one of them Then it is the garish flat where we knew love To sit by the window and watch the night Gather in the city like a troubled infant And to dream of a soft knock at the door And for our love to come home