Crossing Borders

Three museums knocked us out
(Also, lots and lots of walking)
When at last we stopped to eat
And we somehow got to talking

With the couple to our right
(Quite delightful outdoor seating)
When they pointed to our food,
Asking, "What is that you're eating?"

So we offered them a taste -
All agreed it wasn't good -
But a conversation followed,
As we somehow knew it would.

He, like us, was a New Yorker;
She, Canadian, but still,
We had lots of things in common
And we all had time to kill.

They were younger than our kids
But nobody seemed to care,
As we spoke of this and that
In the balmy evening air.

So we chatted, trading stories
As we ate and sipped our beers,
Such an unexpected pleasure,
Crossing borders, lives and years.