Park Life

Open greens,
This place where words fall
from the smoke,

Tumbling from my mouth
to the page in red,
Dreams made in the

Heavens above, a blue and white
paradise of possibilities endless,
Free of the dirt’s restraints,

Up beyond the trees my
verse sails,
Searching for the

railroad yard in San Jose,
the pour of tor and distances,
to sit careless on a granary floor,

While here I remain with
closed body and opened mind,
The poetry of thought

and experience nourishing
the centre of my



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