Willi Ronis

 

Although they hanker still

for desolate views,

they have learned to count

their blessings: migrants

taking a bowl of air

on this bitter afternoon.

 

Their formal attire

incongruous, their waddling

gait seems outlandish

to the natives they dismay.

 

Consorting largely

with their own,

they have tried

at least to pay their way

and not appear

stand-offish.

 

With no one else

abroad on walkways,

lawns and benches

you would swear

that they belong,

shaking heads sagely

now that summer’s gone.