Reading "Nighthawks"

(With appreciation for Edward Hopper)

There are no secrets
in this place;
A window as wide as this
Reveals All.

A wash of blues
sets a somber mood.
Yet there is care here –
see the gleaming countertops?

That businessman,
his head bowed,
his back to the street:
        Was it a deal gone bad?
        A contract that collapsed?
Not all may be lost –
look at the light
that caresses one shoulder.

And over there,
the couple seated
at the corner,
so serious.

Their hands touch tentatively.
Their faces fall forward.
    She resembles fire;
    he might be the water
    that douses her dreams.
But hold on:
they are framed
In the glow of hope.

Meanwhile,
the soda jerk shines in white.
He’s bent over, tending
to his shift,
ears tuned to the beat
of broken wings.

--Karen Y., Adult