Coming Up for Air

 There's an aquarium at the top of the stairs and you'll stop to watch
Some morning when the rain comes
The air filter bubbles, the blue and orange lights washing over the steps and translucent fish
Hide and dart in the hollow of plastic stones, desperate to remain unseen
At times you must be one of them when the rain blurs the windows and the sun
Seems impossibly far behind, locked in the tower of the clouds
If I see you at a party next time I won't sink into the crowd
Or stand with my back to the wall
I'll come up to talk and I won't be afraid
Even if you don't turn around, it won't hurt
Maybe we'll meet again next year, in a crowded market in Beirut
On Park Avenue or a street corner in the Village, your face framed by the light
And the warm incense of Autumn, like leaves drifting in the city
They come when you least expect them