There is a take-out restaurant on South Street,
not far from here, a bit pricey, but the
best Chinese cuisine I have had up here,
and every time I order the same thing,
General Tsošs chicken and steamed dumplings. The
city sidewalks between here and there

are flooded with leaves in the fall. Orange
red brown and yellow  — as if the sidewalks
were curled up beneath a quilted blanket
waiting to be ravished in the chilled air
of winter. I enjoy my quiet walks
in this neighborhood, my thoughts wander yet

somehow, like my shoes and my self, return.
At one time I wondered if this was a
sort of meditation, like Buddhists do —
but I know better now, having sat in
the circle, butt on pillow, thinking a
walk is more pleasant, and relaxing too.

And now the season is winter, and it
has been mild, although the wind bites and stings
and the sky is a shade of parchment. I
never would have dreamt that loneliness could
be more lonely, yet my heart does sing  —
my thoughts linger about you, dance, and sigh.