This morning, en route to a cat
that I tend in the home of a friend,
I decided to wend my way past
the lank statue of Eleanor Roosevelt:
bronze, long and pensive – suspending
her ghost in a host of clipped shrub
and wrought iron park bench: at
the start of the hub of the upper west side,
overseeing the river and Riverside Park.
It was early, and quiet, an hour
past dark, and nobody around, so I tipped
my head towards the brown lady
who seemed to be whispering sound,
and she was, and she said: “Sew
the mystical thread in like silk through
the burlap, or better: weave burlap
through silk: there is no purer milk:
cacophony highlights the lyrical. Don't
praise or deride, just derive a felt sense
of the spherical.” Then others arrived:
she resumed her immutable miracle.
Eleanor’s nice. Worth visiting twice.
that I tend in the home of a friend,
I decided to wend my way past
the lank statue of Eleanor Roosevelt:
bronze, long and pensive – suspending
her ghost in a host of clipped shrub
and wrought iron park bench: at
the start of the hub of the upper west side,
overseeing the river and Riverside Park.
It was early, and quiet, an hour
past dark, and nobody around, so I tipped
my head towards the brown lady
who seemed to be whispering sound,
and she was, and she said: “Sew
the mystical thread in like silk through
the burlap, or better: weave burlap
through silk: there is no purer milk:
cacophony highlights the lyrical. Don't
praise or deride, just derive a felt sense
of the spherical.” Then others arrived:
she resumed her immutable miracle.
Eleanor’s nice. Worth visiting twice.
.
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