Sumac curtsy away from houses, their bases inches from the brick. Who planted trees so close to walls? Scaled trunks bend away and double back, one limb forward, one behind in a flourish. Some decline to curtsy and lean only outward. Tethered with rope to balconies, they are caught as if in flight. Are trees, then, birds in slow motion?
nature
Young trees bow like dancers
things I noticedCold that bit my lips and made me dumb.
A woodpecker no larger than my hand, peering at me from the far side of an elm trunk. His beak a needle.
The sun’s reflection caught in the overturned cup of a bridge’s arch. Reflection larger, more brilliant than its parent. Lamp post centered before all.
Lantern, you are not the light.
Birds buffeted by the wind
things I noticedBirds buffeted by the wind
A blackbird on a yellow reed, bent down by the bird’s weight. The bird had a red dash on its shoulder and was larger than I expected it to be.
A man running with a boy on a bike. The boy was small and wore a helmet ridged with green dragon scales down the center. The man had fleshy lips and curly black hair, going grey. On the down slopes the boy pulled ahead while the man sprinted to keep up. On the uphills, he gained on the boy. Up hill and down, slower and faster, they wove their way along the path ahead of me until I lost sight of them.
Nibs of tender new grass, turning the forest floor bright green where the sun shines.
Parents running with their children. At first it was rare and mostly with teenagers, but there are eight- and nine-year-olds jogging like any seasoned runner now that the days are fine.
In the right light, the reeds around the marshes look red.
Made by Marion 