tall trees bristle like the needles of a thistle
to the dance of the waterline breeze
late swans paddle and the smaller birds straddle
bits of jetsam in the lee-ward quays
the dainty clip-clop and the dense hollow din
of the well-heeled leaving their cars
stifled by the shriek of a courting couple
under billions of summer night stars
the audio conundrum of the nearby city
plays percussion so deep and infused
with sounds that are pliable
(if unidentifiable)
the way new crowds are enthused
flux and density
the rhythm of propensity
introduce her beating heart
the slow chuckle whirr of the inlet risers
lungs of the high-rise art
there can be no equivalent
she’s ambient
ambivalent
she’s tempting you to close your eyes
she’s the muskadoon echo of a long train running
down the mastery of cunning disguise
something otherly
big older brotherly
peels away from my ears
the harmony of still things
life without buildings
cry-baby ship canal tears
are saltwater vials
on the weather-worn smiles
of a long dead cotton-eye Joe
no words can seal
the clarity i feel
right here in the M Five-O
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