I had to read this one twice over in succession to appreciate fully the nuances and setting you have created. Sometimes life can seem surreal and the ambience of an environment, especially one of high life luxury, can sweep your existence into a swirling tunnel vision within the moments taking place. Being dressed to the t helped them to have admiration and acceptance for a fleeting moment, yet such exterior appearances couldn't mask or reveal the true horrors they had experienced. This Rush Street memory would be a cherished one that would fade in the distance by the detail the more time would pass, seeing that they only belonged for a temporary pleasure, a snippet of time, a token of euphoric forgetfulness of their "current situation." What a wonderful poem. My grandmother was friends with Frank Sinatra and dined with him occasionally. This brought back memories of sweet San Francisco, when the security and bodyguards of celebrities back then wasn't such a crazy ordeal regarding paparazzi and crazed fans. You could literally catch musicians such as Sinatra casually dining at one of your favorite diners, and this poem also gives that same notion of sentiment. To be amongst the revered and bigger than life entities and individuals who magnetize influence and a state of celebratory interaction upon contact as the people around them naturally gravitate to their aura. Really enjoyed this one. And never be ashamed for how long you have been writing, we only become more polished as the years pass. Upvoted