Diner

Cut-paper couples eat blue-plate specials at Formica tables –
spirits steaming from their coffee cups – in the dead of winter,
sky a shroud. “Long ago and far away and when you wish upon
a star and …” Chalk white light makes ghosts of their shadows.
Apparitions crowd the counter, huddled from a grim world of ice
and rock. “Wish I may and wish I might and once upon a time …”
I bundle back into the blizzard, bowed against the swirl, where
fallen angels dream of sorrow.