The Triumph Brought

Bronx breeze carries the scent of pot-flowers and wet dust
Sunken apartment doors left open let out attic must
Wet metal drip- drip-
Drips pools of liquid rust
Trees occasional clouds do not block light but enhance
Dancer’s body caught in trance
Tangled roots shoot up to drown in air
A wrinkled woman watches from her apartment stair
With her
Childhood eyes
It seems that death has met its demise
Triumphant baby cries
Can be heard up and down the block
Attic must escaping-doors left open on lock
Soothing shaking baby-cry
Lets them know that death did die
Wrinkled woman blinded eye
Can see what’s left through her right
Everything’s alright

The Bronx breeze
Does appease
White cloud green trees
Potted plants-
Light enhanced
Brings the dancer from her trance
And the wet metal

Drip.
Drip.
Drips.
♠ ♠ ♠
sdfgdfgsfdsdfg