The street that took us every day
to hear the poets read
this morning carries on
as if we were never here
as if it was only ever interested
in selling shoes

I’ve taken my position
in the corner of a coffee shop
where I can watch passers by
and in a Judith Herzberg poem read
that making friends
requires not persistence but pause

She has just this morning left the city
having said when I hoped we’d meet again
life is not very long
her voice conveying not sorrow
but something that might come afterwards
the sound of being unencumbered

Looking up from her poem I see
crossing the street in my direction
a bearded man dragging his right leg
he’s wearing red runners and
blossoming at his knees
a full white petticoat