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.