Streets and Avenues

Hold my hand; we'll walk for an hour or two
down this street and up that avenue.
Like reachable stars, the streetlights glow in the fog.
We'll pass the bakeries and little, book shops.

You throw pennies into the wishing well,
while I throw dimes, just in case.
I know that smile, oh so well,
that stretches across your face.

Old men walk through the parks,
searching for peace in the city.
We laugh and enjoy the bustling life after dark,
but we're anxious to return to the country.

I'll sip my latte', while you play your guitar,
but soon we'll be underneath the stars.
We'll listen to the crickets play,
as the sun chases away the day.