Kate

This evening, after the concert, I saw these two prostitutes on
the corner . . . talking with this street crazy, this bad lady.
And I actually stopped to watch them. Even though it had begun
to rain.

And I remember something I think it was Kafka wrote about
having been filled with a sense of endless astonishment at
simply seeing a group of people cheerfully assembled.

I saw this young man go up, obviously from out of town, and he
asked them, "How do I get to Carnegie Hall?" And the bag lady
said, "Practice!" And we caught each other's eyes--the
prostitutes, the bag lady, the young man and I.
We all burst out laughing.

There we were, laughing together, in the pouring rain, and then
the bag lady did the dearest thing--
she offered me her umbrella hat.

And, Lonnie, I did the strangest thing.

I took it!