Bryant Park
In Bryant Park
there is a man
with a chessboard.
Game? he asks,
gesturing to the empty
seat across him.
I feel another hand
pulling against my own:
Come on. We’ll be late.
My eyes linger
for a moment
before glancing away.
In Bryant Park
there is a man
with a chessboard.
Game? he asks,
gesturing to the empty
seat across him.
I feel another hand
pulling against my own:
Come on. We’ll be late.
My eyes linger
for a moment
before glancing away.