"Mysteries of Pittsburgh"
By Toi Derricotte
What is the mystery
in this restaurant's "Mystery Sandwich"
on a Saturday afternoon
on a nearly spring day,
forsythia's long yellow
laying over on its side,
combing the sunshine
until the closed
umbrella buds
pop?
What is the mystery
that opens the way
for you to turn
right or left out of my driveway
and end up, always,
at the place you were
heading?
The roof
you once wanted to leap
from, is now a patch
of land, a roof garden
that some woman, inch
by inch, sneaked
up in her purse.