Air is cool
but sun is warm.
Winds sweep in
pushing billows of clouds,
fresh scents, rushes of air,
and gigantic shadows
proffering tingles of chill,
flutters of light,
a ruffling of hair,
then oh so welcome warmth
in quickly brightened wake.
Across the park
fellows emerge
from shielding shelter,
unsteady at first,
apprehensive,
impetuously pulled
by impatient pets,
then slowly invigorated,
strengthened,
and finally beaming
at everyone met.
And young ones
can't wait to shed jackets,
climb swirling slides,
monkey bars, swings,
and high flying
teeter-totters.
Screams of delight
crack the air.
Out on bumpy courts
young stallions
shed sweatshirts
and strain,
head butt, elbow jam,
trip and shove,
scrambling, dashing,
jiving, halting,
spinning, charging,
then leap with grace,
sailing on air,
skillfully shepherding
palm-greased sphere
down through
white haloed net.
Who? Who does not hail
the wind, the warmth,
the clouds, the light,
the fragrant scents
on air in March?
All Hail
All Hail
All Hail
|
Saturday, March 23rd, 1991
Chicago
IL
USA
|
