The Violet Hour, NYC

"This is the violet hour, the hour of hush and wonder, when the affections glow again and valor is reborn, when the shadows deepen magically along the edge of the forest and we believe that, if we watch carefully, at any moment we may see the unicorn." - Bernard DeVoto*


Riding home tonight through 5th avenue's grand concrete canyon
on my new baby blue Peugeot I didn't see the unicorn
but I could have sworn Frank was resurrected from that Fire Island beach.

He was gliding gracefully of course
riding alongside me
no hands!
loosening the top button of his impeccably pressed shirt,
reaching for an unfiltered Gauloises blonds in his left pocket
and lighting it in one fluid gesture
before riding off into the velvety violet hour.





*(Sure it's from a book about cocktails, but uh, literary drinks? perfect...)