The Dakota
I stand with my back
against a wrought iron fence, waist high
Or so, the white square building behind me,
I gaze at the street, to my
Left a liveried doorman stands in
The driveway, a sign says
Do not block, driveway in use 24
Hours a day, three people step from the building , a woman holding a bouquet and
The hand of a man, the third
In their party, wearing a brown suede sportscoat flags a black limousine,
Waves it to turn around, and the couple
Steps in, sportscoat man
Walks away, my friend says
Quietly “whenever you’re ready” I take
A few more quiet breaths, watch
A woman take photos of The Dakota,
Take photos of the street, I
Notice a metal plaque
In the road, a few feet from the curb
Engraved with a single word
Marking access to
A gas line
below
PWS 10.17.20
Six Notebooks 