City Park: Spring
On Sunday afternoon the girls
in their thin silk dresses walk out lithe
bellies swaying bottoms swinging
and path-proud pigeons creak aside
pretending with a superb
unnoticed condescension not to take
cognizance
but the old benched men
sifting the ashes of yesterday's
newspapers sense behind their eyeballs
distant burning signals of countries long
unvisited while sailors stealthily
detach themselves from chewing gum
and strart the stalk and all the leaves
are green again.
- Constance Hunting
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