Walk Four - Sacred Garden and a Sheet of Nightfall

Large leaves of a Katsura tree reigns

above me on Panama Street.

The leaves trap the street sign

for only I to see.

I spot one amber colored leaf

on the next tree.

It sticks out through the crowd of green.

A pair of dangling plants hang

from two flower boxes

across the street.

Deep red and dark green

are pulled by gravity.

In the gentle evening breeze,

they swing gleefully,

before returning to a stillness

that soothes my heart.

I catch a glance into someone’s home.

A screaming head pinned into a corner.

It commences Halloween.

Facing forward, my eyes knock

into the tall, attentive clock

glaring on Lombard street,

across the street from the white box

I call the “writer’s room.”

Street lights curl over

the city streets,

as their illumines spilling

rolls down the pavements.

A couple trails the night

and an evening jogger

runs before them,

disappearing behind the hospital;

snatched by a long row of pink flowers

and two sided mirrors.

BOOKS.

The sign is the first thing I see

when I look toward the row of buildings

that roll down South street

into the deepest discoveries of the night.

The day has fallen transparent.

A dim, mysterious space.

A garden sits in darkness;

the lights that glide down

the building beside it

barely reaching it.

Its sacredness is protected

by a sheet of nightfall.

Passing through a crossroad,

I reach a basketball court,

where three boys play,

ignoring the night.

The day still seems new to them.

It’s because they’re playing.

Their bodies slice through

the black, purple, and blue

as the dreaded one

makes his way to the basket.

His friend with a faded haircut

tries to stop him,

to block his shot.

A fourth figure appears in the shadows,

watching their game from a bench.

I walk the outskirts,

approaching geometry.

I propel myself toward

a building who’s shapes seem to move

in the opposite direction of me,

as if we are passing each other.

Orange and blue boxes with eyes

of lit windows, move forth,

the closer I grow upon them.

We pull each other into the depths

of night;

a harmonious exchange.