You fell asleep during “Ivan
The Terrible, Part I,” all wrapped up
In my old denim jacket – summertime
Movie houses almost always
Too cold for your comfort.
We were reaching out toward elements
That made us different from where we started,
But still just wide-eyed kids from Queens and Jersey.
Art Movies? Who could even imagine such things?
And all those other experiences that seemed
To scold us for our innocences,
All of them so much bigger than ourselves.
Who could imagine a guided, early-morning
Bird walk in Central Park, its setting
Just short walks away from
The Metropolitan Museum and from
The outdoor stage for “Shakespeare in the Park.”
We lived with neither rhyme nor reason
But a burning aspiration, dividing the days into early
Through the late with birds, museums,
Silent movies and Shakespeare.
Whoever could have imagined that this
Would be just as we liked it.
