Breakfast at the Outdoor Cafe

She brings coffee and croissants to eat
While fat pigeons peck food at my feet
Seeking crumbs out of love
I might drop from above
As I search for her smile when we greet.

Walking Through St. Paul’s Churchyard in Manhattan

The rain and wind attacked the stones
That marked where George and Sarah rest.
Somewhere their flesh and fragile bones
Decayed.  The gravestones did their best
To let us know who’s lying where,
But weather wore their faces bare.
These markers still have much to tell:
The chapel stood when towers fell.

Eclipsing the Moon in April

It’s chilly in the morning.  Welcome Spring
When April’s fresh-made flowers hint that soon
The trees will bud, but first a wondrous thing:
The shadow of our Earth will chill our Moon.