It Being March in Loring Park

Cattails mashed
and embedded
in what’s left 

of the ice shield
over the pond. Ducks
float in the free 

flowing water, other birds
hop along those complex layers
of solid. I see 

that same old wooden wagon
unhitched beside the iron
footbridge. The gardener’s back. 

I’m circulating
the park, making decisions,
walking on.

2 thoughts on “It Being March in Loring Park

  1. I love the new poem! It has a zen-like quality to it that leaves a tranquil feeling after reading it. I also like the three-line stanza style that you are applying. Is it influenced by haikus? No matter, I really dig it.


  2. Thank you. Must have been the spring air and walk in the park that inspired some zen energy (or rather calm). I tend to write short lines and stanzas–it’s how it just comes out most of the time. More lyric than narrative. I do have some longer, more narrative poems buried in the blog. Again, thanks!


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