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N is for Nighthawks
Nighthawksafter Edward HopperThe big picture window of Phillie's dineris a yellow welcome climbing out of shadow,an island in the dream of three am,swimming out through deep grates and lattice work.Phil is working the counter in a white uniform,old as the place and polite as you please.You perch on the stool in a bright red dress,your man sitting next to you.His fedora catches light on the brim.Its three am and you in your straight-seamed nylonsand he in dress coat and tiehum late night conversation,words warm as coffee,inside the plateglass. And beyond,the lip of darkness pouts in shadows.
This is the way it was,a world liquid under glass,while the avenue was dark with stars
Published on April 16, 2012 04:00