Contemplative pocket park at 53rd, NYC. Loved this park when I worked at the Harper & Row buidling (gone) though I lamented all the people during lunch hour.
Nirvanna. Here on a late Sunday afternoon on an otherwise sunny day, the perfectly beautiful grey of a city comes forth (NYC or Paris?). I saw what my mind-eye always did. People-less beauty and yet footsteps & voices rush as waterfall. Harmony.
And, yes, the lunch -- lovely Chinese eggplant & prawns (spelled pawns). A lunch with Bob,
Cin, and Karen. Those chairs beautifully sat upon.
And, yes, overspilling with laughter.
cp 199 footsteps continued
ReplyDeleteThe footsteps of her lover
run across her heart and the rain of last evening
as if never idle they awaken
her cantankerous oddball mind with bells
bells that do not ring for anyone up at dawn
And yet she waits outside her house
to hear a word twice spoken
her name or another name
subtracted from the sum total of all
that is taken in