New York, New York

Two Far Niente’s running through me
I am   ready…

for the night to come in
to   take   me
The stroke of midnight to tick,
tick new–
complete    and kiss me.

*   *   *

“Looks like   you need to get in here”,
says New Yorker to [me] the Gypsy.

I smile,   step up,
he lifts and cheers my empty cup.

“You need a drink,
what are you drinking?”
“Chardonnay” says [me] the Gypsy.

*   *   *

Sleek and polished,
like a present wrapped in gold,
Christmas eve night
Under the Beach Tree light, he stood there looking shiny,
beautiful,  bright.

*   *   *

He was kind, yes very kind, as he handed me my wine.
Oh New York, Oh New York… Oh you New Yorker.

“Come this way”, he says and guides me,
as we dive into the flurry
New Years Eve blinged-out young dresses
Breaking stride,  as we bump tresses.

“You are too nice”, New Yorker says,
“I can tell     — not from the city.
“I am not”, replies the Gypsy.

“I will teach you,
you must be taught,
you need a spine     hard as rock”

“Please do teach me, I’d like to learn,
to be  colder
like a New Yorker”.

“You need    another Chard
before we step onto the dance floor”

Chard in hand, Gin in his,
we’re on the floor
and then…

we danced.

*   *   *

We danced, and danced.

*   *   *

The band played
waves swayed,  night young
our  stage  won—  moon laughed,
as we swayed
all night
all night long
[just as
you   would imagine
a  Gypsy girl with a
New Yorker].

*   *   *

I met his friends   who gave me beads—
I lost my hat,   my heart— and my golf cart.

*   *   *

I got my kiss, my New Years kiss,
then resolved
to   never
dance   again

Unless, 
with a New Yorker…
while the band plays,
and waves are crashing
like in the movies
[fireworks exploding]
As on my New Years,
New Years Eve
—2013.

Then on the beach, we kissed again,
under the moon
he held my hand
The first of January
is when it happened
The beach of Hualalai
with my New Yorker.

We kissed all night.
Moon sunk, as  sun spoke up,
“It’s time I rise, you must be going…“

*   *   *

The crack of dawn, I strolled home   slowly
Thinking of  New York,  New York
oh   you   New  yorker.

*   *   *

“I’m glad I met you”, he messaged later
“I’m eating eggs, and turkey bacon.
Flight leaves at noon, I must be going
I hope I see you, soon again”

And then
the story ends

On pen…
yet not in my head

Because it’s midnight, and we’re still kissing,
the moon is laughing, the band is playing
We’re acting care-free,   we are happy

…still in my head.

New York, Oh my New York,
Oh you New Yorker.

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