Naked Limbs

My route to BART is level, scenic, fine.
It passes through two neighborhoods of stores
and blocks of homes and gardens that align
with asphalt streets and concrete walks. Outdoors
is lovely all the way, adorned with scores
of trees. I notice one specifically:
well-shaped and tall as half a dozen floors,
but not a speck of green is there to see.


This entry was posted in Flora, Neighborhood, Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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