The quiet of the morning lies thick

on cobblestones

Sifting sunlight slowly drifting across

Dewy tennis shoes one in front

Of the other over and over, looking down

Toward the smell of bagels, garlic, sesame-

Seed and coffee

The newspaper anxious to scream death

Awaits its opened pages

Destruction somewhere, hatred filling

Columns continued on

Page 5c

3 blocks over, 2 blocks down the deli

Ah, the deli

An oasis sitting, straddling the line between

Last night and

This morning with bagels; the demarcation

Coffee; the referee’s whistle

The day began with a journey

One foot over one foot

Journey

To the deli

Coffee and

Bagels

Death and destruction

Another day

In the

City

Tennis shoes are drying and the newspaper

Is sitting with bad news slowly

Evaporating and

Not fresh, not hot, not

Like bagels and coffee

We like to think that newspapers

Are always about

Other places but

Mostly we’re

Wrong.