Summer soon: The Esplanade on May 26

I lay contented as
The breeze flits through the trees,
The muggy air,
My pulled back hair.

In the afternoon shade, my skin is dry
Though the hazy sun still winks her eye.

A bird hops by.

Even the people stuck in traffic seem happy, lazy.

A little boy plucks up a daisy
Then looks at the train headed to MGH-- chucka chucka chucka chuck.
He gives the daisy to a duck.

Peace floats through Boston on the wings of weather.
In the quiet atmosphere above,
It gathers happiness
And sprinkles it down the Charles in golden flecks
That rest on the crests of the water.

And the ducks are baptized.

And all barren winter land becomes holy once again.
And the spirit of happiness becomes mighty,
Even in watching a sparrow rinse himself off in the dust.

While the haze of the day begins to fade,
The ants are finishing up work and weeding their way home
Through my blanket.
The green oak leaves turn over to sleep
As the golden eye drops behind the sky.

Then the wind whispers, hush...
And twilight approaches.

Some girl in the autumn.

Today I step off the bus
And see:
A pretty girl with
Long hair blowing, flowing
Behind her briskly-walking
Thin, jaunty body.
Girl I don’t know hurts me,
Only in her beauty.
Her carefree attitude a color in the atmosphere,
A painting this September morning:
A girl with dark blue jeans, light orange jacket,
And clear, white skin in a town’s crowd—
Still, my eye is drawn to her.

And, for a moment,
I thought I was her, maybe once, some time ago.

I know, though,
I never was a pretty girl with long, straight hair,
Strikingly clothed and a contented look,
With a face another stared at
For its grace and pleasantness,
Walking briskly in the late summer.

And I can’t decide if that hurts,
Or if I like it.