Wordless vocals wind around
The courtyard of Coyote Gulch
And wind has nothing much to do
With them or you, me or the singing
Of the small birds hidden from these.
The cafe is closing soon, but don't
Indulge your incessant longing
For nostalgia for an end. It reopens
Every morning, as it has done
Since before I found this two-
Top stop in the fragmentary shade.
Odysseus never knew who was
Who when the underground opened
For him. Everyone's thirsty, now and then.