on the Avenue...

 

The sky was so high
the rain could not find me
It was lost in winds and windows
Stuck on cold glass and curious eyes
That counted drops into tiny streams
The tall buildings
Arched into prayer arms;

Thieves of blue and gray.
They shortened sight of day
And in the surprise of dusk
The steady plop of drops
Coursed through the dinner crowd
As feet lifted and fell into splash and spray.

The night lit so bright
In white and red neon light
That re-glistened off wet streets
And curbs bounded ambitious young streams.

I stood in doorways and tucked into
windowed bays, pretending to read menus
and sample tortes with my eyes.
It was then that hungers begin to form
an ache… I thought
this is the moment she would turn,
wet skin, soaked hair ends; she'd send
that certain smile. Her lips shaped
the kiss that cured hunger; one that turned
cold, empty thoughts into warm companions.