Coney Island

Free Verse Poem by Stephen Barile

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On the sidewalk, a destitute couple
Linger at the shop window,
Dazzled by the wristwatches and rings
At the Federal Jewelry and Loan Company.
Next door, they come in from the March cold,
Into the long, deep tunnel of a restaurant,
the only real light is from Tulare Street.
A red neon sign in the window
Reads: DNALSI YENOC.
It’s afternoon, families with children file-in
With yellow trays, sit on yellow chairs
At yellow tables in long lines,
Inside walls of yellow patina.
Three ceiling-fans sit idle this day,
Over a row of tables in the center
Of the oblong passageway of the large room.
Everything is well-worn.