Crossroads Dinor -- Maureen Owen

Curtains disguise the moon          & lends
to inky dark a glaze of white
'Monet never painted cars by his bridges'  & so
these that could but never smoke        assemble
at table    nearest  logs aburst
seal of a soon to be believed angel flying past
us   as we have supped   & toasted by that blaze
blond&beige  students bring the menus   & the plates flat
on the corner    the only hill's a mural    this was trolley
103   rang Edinboro   to & fro's main street
if you were here to dine with us     the frosted spirits
in the historical picture books in the little library
in the basement of the police station
would fill your eyes and sneeze and cough as we do