Bryant Square, NYC: a few years ago
I’ve got a head full of street fluff, city detritus…
worse than the foul wafts of charring meat and pretzels,
scorched and salted nuts, and wet concrete.
I’ve just used up the available day light walking,
trying to find a suitable place
to settle in;
somewhere to sit and feel the breeze,
watch the clouds meander over the city skyline,
maybe even escape the incessant traffic
without needing to be indoors; without having to buy
another coffee.
I haven’t found that place, not perfectly,
but there are people finding their own respite in rocking chairs,
people surrounding me in the plaza: all of us enjoying the
pleasant illusion of serenity granted by a row of shrubs and a few trees;
feeling situated; placated by the cascades of a fountain,
the children chasing pigeons - laughing at their imbecilic cooing sounds
and the squabble as they take flight,
escaping the torment of humans invading their preciously scarce
park space.
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