i think i switched
souls with a park bench
in negley park in pittsburgh
but that was 1972 and I was pretty high (up Flagstaff Hill)

Still the cherry tree in the spring is so beautiful with its tiny pale pink not quite white petals, undersized compared to the maples and oaks who share the front yard and who steal all its light as spring fades forwards towards summer the blossoms fall silently to cover the bare spot in the lawn caused by the cherry tree blocking the light of the pittsburgh sun.

Still the cherry tree in the late spring with its blossoms falling silently to cover the bare spot in its shade and as spring fades forwards towards summer the blossoms fall silently to cover the bare spot in the lawn caused by the cherry tree blocking the light of the pittsburgh sun.

Still the cherry tree gives three small boys cooling cover for their summer games of matchbox cars and teasing the girls with muddy feet and the front lawn is surrounded by a thick and evil bed of green ivy thriving on the skins and bones of the gazillion balls we lost while playing with brothers and friends.

Still the cherry tree in the fall lifts upright branches guarding the sons from the chilling father wind and the front lawn is surrounded by a thick and evil bed of green ivy thriving on the skins and bones of the gazillion balls we lost while playing with brothers and friends.

Still the cherry tree keeps watch on me as the winter snow falls to cover the bare spot in its cold shade and I freeze to avoid the dark wrath of the eyes of the chilling father wind that waits within my house.

Still the cherry tree keeps watch on me as the snow falls to cover the bare spot in its cold shade as I freeze to avoid the dark wrath that waits within my house still the cherry tree still the cherry tree keeps watch on me keeps watch on me keeps watch keeps watch.

20110331-124353.jpg

Still the cherry tree in the spring is so beautiful with its tiny pale pink not quite white petals, undersized compared to the maples and oaks who share the front yard and who steal all its light as spring fades forwards towards summer the blossoms fall silently to cover the bare spot in the lawn caused by the cherry tree blocking the light of the Pittsburgh sun.

Still the cherry tree in the late spring with its blossoms falling silently to cover the bare spot in its shade and as spring fades forwards towards summer the blossoms fall silently to cover the bare spot in the lawn caused by the cherry tree blocking the Pittsburgh sun.

Still the cherry tree gives three small boys cooling cover for their summer games of matchbox cars and teasing the girls with muddy feet and the front lawn is surrounded by a thick and evil bed of green ivy thriving on the skins and bones of the gazillion balls we lost while playing with brothers and friends.

Still the cherry tree in the fall lifts upright branches guarding the sons from the chilling father wind and the front lawn is surrounded by a thick and evil bed of green ivy thriving on the skins and bones of the gazillion balls we lost while playing with brothers and friends.

#458. pittsburgh (for evvie

February 10, 2011

sometimes man its the poem not the poet 
time counts up the years and down
meeting space too is sacred water

sometimes man the grey rivers are so cold
and where they meet they are Oh Cold
meeting and roiling new waters

sometimes man february is a song for spring
snow and ice singing on the rivers
helping a child to the morning

sometimes man the function follows form
space and form following functioning
warmth following spring and cold

#194. opening day

March 7, 2010

opening day

the game always started
on the trolley
with my head leaning
against the glass thrilling
at the closeness of the trees
and buildings rushing by
the ground disappearing
as we whizzed over bridges
the pittsburgh gorges opening up
ground returning more slowly

half an hour later
one little paw in my dad’s
the other in my mitt
smoky vaulted forbes field
with infinite flat green grass
opening up the day

#112. Forbes Field Circa 1966

December 15, 2009

when
we were kids
we could never figure out
why the pittsburgh press and bob
prince were so mad at roberto.
we knotholers only knew
the great one
who would talk to us
for hours
in the sunshine
before the game.

%d bloggers like this: