Falling pink petals
Plinking my head
A saxophone serenade
Kind of kind of blue
A solitary birch among many hundreds
Of deciduous trees, its paper
Bark scored with age
White among shadows
And the endless breeze takes me up
Into Tiffany-blue sky
Pollen clumps litter the edges of lawn
Calliope streaming from a mared and seahorsed
Carousel dances in my head
Disobedient canine in exodus
Defiant against the silhouette
Of a circled dog
Line diagonally cutting across
Wah wah wah as the ducks in the pond
Are chased away.
Endless verdant day criss-crossed with
Walking paths and robin’s-egg sky punctuated
With drifting cotton shapes.
Brazen squirrels accustomed to the pleasant
Bustle and hustle
Bat City, unopened, in my lap
Mothers feeding children
Hungry mouths to breast.
Seeking out a lemonade stand
Near Winter Street in spring
A yellow burst of sour notes sing
On my palate
A bargain at a fiver on a day as this
Soundtrack peppered by buskers and
An ***** grinder turning the crank on his street ***** and
Birds and
The woo of occasional sirens.
A mother wheeling her child along
In a stroller
Mohawked, tattooed, pierced lip and
She smiles on by.
Ivied brownstones and balconies railed
With wrought iron
End our stay
On this idyllic day
In month of May.
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
Falling pink petals
Plinking my head
A saxophone serenade
Kind of kind of blue
A solitary birch among many hundreds
Of deciduous trees, its paper
Bark scored with age
White among shadows
And the endless breeze takes me up
Into Tiffany-blue sky
Pollen clumps litter the edges of lawn
Calliope streaming from a mared and seahorsed
Carousel dances in my head
Disobedient canine in exodus
Defiant against the silhouette
Of a circled dog
Line diagonally cutting across
Wah wah wah as the ducks in the pond
Are chased away.
Endless verdant day criss-crossed with
Walking paths and robin’s-egg sky punctuated
With drifting cotton shapes.
Brazen squirrels accustomed to the pleasant
Bustle and hustle
Bat City, unopened, in my lap
Mothers feeding children
Hungry mouths to breast.
Seeking out a lemonade stand
Near Winter Street in spring
A yellow burst of sour notes sing
On my palate
A bargain at a fiver on a day as this
Soundtrack peppered by buskers and
An ***** grinder turning the crank on his street ***** and
Birds and
The woo of occasional sirens.
A mother wheeling her child along
In a stroller
Mohawked, tattooed, pierced lip and
She smiles on by.
Ivied brownstones and balconies railed
With wrought iron
End our stay
On this idyllic day
In month of May.
