Fulton Street, Downtown Brooklyn.
Summer Fridays at home.
On Waverly, Clinton Hill, Brooklyn.
A lazy weekend watching peonies bloom.
the beauty of
this home
is
a sinking sun
from
the back windows framed
by trees
and quiet laced with
birds
and skies
like Costa Rica
glowing, sinking:
b l u e
c r e a m
p i n k
as I wonder
each color
that will light
the Empire State
six
miles
away.
To think my aching heart could kid the moon
What’s in store
Should I phone once more
No, no, no, no, no it’s best that I stick to my tune
