City Lights

You two asked me to come with you one Friday night,

And I agreed.

We sat on the floor of an empty room of an art show

With a piece showing rain falling in front of a window.

I said we were in the stormy dark looking in

And you both said we were on the inside looking out.

We stood at the top of a downtown parking garage,

Arms leaning on the cool concrete wall.

The city lights blurred in my phone’s camera,

But I preferred to take you both in with my eyes.

We wandered through peopled city streets,

Smelling the restaurants and hearing the music.

At the city’s river, one of you almost fell in the water,

But we laughed together because you didn’t.

When I came home, I hung my coat, breathed peace,

And thanked God.