When we have some white wine that we can bite into
We’d like green olives on the side:
A bit of bread, a violinist
A cobbled street besides –
Near tourists and a pigeon or two
Hearts in tumult, waiting
For a message from above:
Promises of the Word – a sign, a sighting!
Thanking him for breath and life
For food and drink, for sound and sight;
Sunday in ancient Covent Garden
Is where my body fades but my soul takes flight.
© Millicent Danker
27 June 2004 / 12 May 2013