Mary Harvey

Mary Harvey watches the pigeons

outmanuever oneanother for crumbs.

She looks beyond them to the evening traffic,

Pulls a heavy coat around her

Snuggles into it.

Carols float across the ellipse.

Lighted trees color the sky.

She closes her eyes and listens.

Chauffeured limousines line the streets.

Parade stands almost full.

Tourists line the iron black fence,

glimpsing the bedecked White House.

Lovers sit on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

She stops to read Lincoln's words,

Turns up 19th to her place.

Warm air wafts up through the grill.

She settles down, arranging her bags around her.