Archive
06/19/10 - (1)
Central Park Saturday
It's a hazy, heated June afternoon, in modern-day Manna-hata, This land of many hills Henry Hudson discovered, This estuarial island that once was nothing but lush vegetation.
In the horse-drawn clippity-cloppity-clip-clop monotonies, Interwoven with staccato notes of a carousel calliope, The sweet, melodic, sporadic rhapsodies of cardinals and robins
And buskers setting their music loose, for the joie de vivre of it, The chop-chop-chop of helicopters throbbing overhead, Below the shrill whine of jets,
The susurrant incessancy of traffic at the perimeters, The vibrant intercourse of insouciant beings Navigating sidewalks, streets, paths of this meandering park,
This sanctuarial space at the core of this dizzying city, Set aside to provide, for its densely dwelling residents, Space, fresh air, nature's beauty — an inside serenity, outside...
In this rectangle of green amidst the concrete, glass, and steel, We blend the cadences and rhythms of our hearts, Our pulse harmonizing with the park's.
06/19/10 - (1)
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