Little things

“Goodnight, my child,”
She tucks me in;
“Tower! Plane! Explosion!”
NYC defined in charades:
Unrolling the tucked coat collar
of your lover on a windy day,
Smirking at the “All Male”
neon bar sign flashing pink;
The pebble rolling around
angering your sole;
Stubbed toes and day after day grace
on a littered road of rocks.