Saturday, April 24, 2010

National Poetry Month, #22: Riding My Bike to Work

Riding My Bike to Work

Surrounded by shrubbery,
feet firm on crumbly earth,
the men are fishing
in the canal,
a swath of wilderness
winding under the highway.

The shattered glass is just
a city mouse to its brethren
at the beach.

Behind the parking lot,
children are growing vegetables,
sprouts defiant against the weeds
crackling in the concrete,
as if they were really
all that different.

Ironically, the mattress in the alley
has found its final
resting place.

The mangy rabbit guards his hole
in the auto yard fence;
fur matted with grease and oil,
he's learning where to find
the fine line between malice
and wonderland.

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