Chairs

Anniversary

Music Hall will rise each evening,

deserving of its view

from our third floor perch.

Chairs once folded up and in

will now expand,

and beg us to stay.

We will sit side by side

but will not

share the same view,

nor would we want to.

For you will see, rising high,

the pinnacle of the front gable.

The intricate rose window

will remind you

of a church you once knew,

and the faith of your foundation.

I will see light, sunshine

reflecting in the window

bouncing back over

centuries of people

who built Washington Park.

I will see city, all dirt and gleam.

The Pecorino will sting the tongue,

the asparagus will snap in half.

Both will rest dreamily between us,

as if food is the only thing

on which we could ever disagree.