>Sitting in a park in Boston.
left: old brick wharf
right: extension of soft grass under me
straight ahead: rows of Easter-colored tulips
beyond tulips: teenage boy drumming on plastic pales, a kitchen pot, an iron skillet, and the concrete
against my back: the trunk of a cherry blossom tree
overhead: 3-dimensional piece of art- pink clusters like densely packed bouquets
tied to a gray skeleton- something a modern artist might build. Each flower looks like layers of petticoats under a flower girl’s dress. Around me, the ground is littered with petals that the she has flung.
