I am visiting my grownup niece
where the deli slices the moon over Katz’s
and a monstrous insect in the shape of a garbage truck
heaves through sleepless streets, where
a while unlit candle in a jar guards burglar bars,
where a rusted ladder of sparrows
and one bold squirrel crosses the Lower East Side . . .
–excerpt from “Bowery Spring” in To Sip Darjeeling at Dawn by Donna Pucciani (Virtual Artists Collective, Chicago 2011) available from vacpoetry.org.