Extraordinary efforts are being made
To hide things from us, my friend
Some stay up into the wee hours
To search their souls
Others undress each other in darkened rooms
The creaky old elevator
Took us down to the icy cellar first
To show us a mop and a bucket
Before it deigned to ascend again
With a sigh of exasperation
Under the vast, early-dawn sky
The city lay silent before us
Everything on hold:
Rooftops and water towers
Clouds and wisps of white smoke
We must be patient, we told ourselves
See if the pigeons will coo now
For the one who comes to her window
To feed them angel cake
All but invisible, but for her slender arm