Subway Philosophy

Three Different Trees

May 18, 2008 · 2 Comments

1
There was wind, and there was our bodies curled under the first tree in Central Park, the one with the majestic branches spread out like green-leafed legs, as the nine year old boys stomped around the thick trunk.

2
There was the wind, and there were my legs on your legs under the second tree in Central Park, the one that rained petals when the breeze slowly shook through it, as the flowers took flight and fell in your hair and you awoke with a start.

3
There was the wind, and there I was on your jacket, your head on my lap, reading under the third tree in Central Park, the low-sweeping branches hanging softly as the sun drenched my face, your rough cheek in my hand and the afternoon breaking down in the dark blue clouds all around us.

Categories: City · Coronary · Poetry
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