up Connecticut avenue
i almost always turn
my head to the left,
towards
where she lived,
across from the zoo.
three stories up,
her apartment over
the club,
the restaurant, a yogurt
shop,
a place
to repair your shoes.
i look up and see the yellow
square of light
and think of her
on nights like these, in
the rain, driving north
towards Bethesda.
i see her with her hands
on the baby grand
playing softly
and singing
a song that we both
once knew.
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