NEW YORK (LABOR DAY 1987)

....Central Park
5th Ave. park bench.......

somewhere between
“fuck ‘m ‘all”
and
“I love you”
I
find
my
self

no longer seeking
no longer sought

while
to the rolling roar of thunder and the splat of thick black drops
at the very same moment
in the very same time

the bag lady
a bench or two away

rearranges the newspapers
covering her,
tucks beneath
her tousled head

a callused
elbow,
and
sleeps on

the dowager
across the street

helped into the aging limousine
awaiting her,
bows
her silvered head,

and disappears
once more
behind
tinted and curtained windows.