Chez Amy's

Boulder’s Chez Thuy restaurant
Has the best escargot.
And Berkeley’s Chez Panisse
Has the best of everything, I’ve heard.

Our first year of marriage,
Phil traveled to New York routinely.
He would rappel buildings,
Check facades to prevent terra-cotta
Ornaments from manslaughter by falling.

He flew out early one morning.
I expected him back the next day.
That night he called me:
“Guess where I’m eating tonight?”
Manhattan has no lack of fine dining.
The list of guesses was long.

Then came an incomprehensible garble:
“Chez Amy’s … oh, that darn cat!”
And the blue Honda Civic pulled in.

He said later he had parked right outside,
Hoping to make a dramatic entrance.
But the cat, curious or affectionate,
Jumped up on the roof just before
His grand entrance, ruining the delivery
Of the line, but not the person.

I remain amazed that my company and cooking would be
Preferable to an extra night in Manhattan.