What must it be like
for countless springtime songs
to be tossed by the boisterous surge?
Then, summer days,
baked in the dappled sun,
watching rabbits and squirrels conspire?
waiting once more for spring?
stuck in a concrete median strip on Wilshire Blvd,
tickled by junk food plastic wrap,
cell phone soliloquies,
and the sometime shade of a sapling tree
Its sturdy, patient heart
shares grey green dreams
beneath a stream of cars
-- a gift of love, late April, 2004