Sunday, September 30, 2007

Walking Through Central Park One Day, I Stop to Admire My Surroundings

A walk like running
my mind through

A projector

flickering slicing

what would be

the persistence of vision. Needling

my own veins, I open up one day

into everything and everything begins

to look the same. Nothing looks the same

as it did before I was aware of colors

and before they began to run down

the sewer drains. Into my grid

of tunnels they flow invisibly familiar

below the surface. These trees were

put here by someone else anyway.

They did not grow naturally where they are now standing.

Yet, they do grow and they are still alive.

Shedding their foliage they are reborn each Spring

Not to say anything of the sidewalks slicing through the green

That sit just as naturally as the trees.

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