Poets in Central Park
We wrote the rain wrapped in layered fatigues,
Like all old soldiers inside venerable trees.
As green leaves turned greener in diminished light,
We pitched our awareness higher.
The floral electricity floating stillness across this meadow
Set the time for all noise to file from the park.
We followed the echo of a bouncing ball.
And through the spokes of our recycled umbrellas,
Some raindrops completed our sentences.