to a city girl   The city shimmered in your eyes --  so many maybes to be kept, and room to let and time to try the love we laughed, and when you wept that night. . . .       (Remember Manhattan lights; we gazed from the rooftop in Brooklyn Heights where you've collected your life, and I was there too, wondering -- always -- what to do tomorrow, where to wait today, and all along I pretended not to know the truth -- that I just had to go and wander my summer and ponder my fall.)   You cried for me that night, it's true, but don't forget: I stayed for you.     © Michael Fleming Casper, Wyoming September 1982