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.