Adorn These Trees With Teardrops by Jane Fuller

1988

Glowing charcoal wafts

the sweet roasting scent

of old fashioned Christmas

down Fifth Avenue

toward The Battery.

Pop. Pop.

A metal box

hurtles to floor

One Hundred and Seven.

We sink briny martinis,

gulp iridescent oysters,

crack crème brulée.

 

Phosphorescent tail light trails

decorate the Expressway,

Zig zag bridges reach out

to garland the East river,

Manhattan   pulsates   glitter

and the torch of liberty attempts

to enlighten the world.

 

2022

Mementos ornament our minds

but on the ground

a grove of white oak trees

wraps a wreath around

absent names etched on

bronze panels.


All Rights Reserved--2007-2024