Wilderness

the rain like drops of cold lead
it’s hard in this city to keep a grip on the natural world
poking its snout through the wovenwire fence on 7th
or while ordering fried chicken to go on Ave C
where once the carts like tiny sailing ships brought
alarm clocks and unblessed remnants the linden leaves
and locust leaves like green sprays blow
down 5th to meet the stiff leaves of bur oaks
and elm leaves like slender jimmies for all the locks
of memory on 8th the remains of a garden
or lost civilization rise to a grassy mound where
children veer into fantasy and only bits of spotless sky
torn from a secret book appear above the lost and broken.