The Lady in the Garden
A picture-post-card date near the wide
Serpentine sway of the wide Schuylkill River
Meandering through Central Philly's park garden,
Towered over by leaning elms, while 3 long canoes
Swift by to the paddling of Ivy League collegians.
Gazing at my dear companion in the Garden
My Friendly girl, Grace, chestnut-caped round
In waist-length hair like a swaying black ephod,
Vivid in her red chambray shirt and blue jeans,
Is an aspiring concert violinist but converses
Passionately of King's March to D.C. in 3 months.
Gazing at my dear companion in the Garden
I, the 'noble' drafted objector, work with lost-saken
Children confined to the gray mental ward
Disturbed by their absent parents' living,
But am still so youthfully focused and narrowed,
More concerned with my companion's
Figured shape than humanity’s ship of state.
Gazing at my dear companion in the Garden
We sit cross-legged on the lush parkway green,
Getting ready to eat our carefully bagged meal
Of 2 peanut butter and grape sandwiches
As we discuss the ravages of far-off Nam
And Bob Dylan's 'hard rained' croons.
Gazing at my dear companion in the Garden
But then I inhale this fuming putrid odor
Coming from behind; I twist my neck and see
About 6 feet away this bag of a lady in a filthy rag
Of a dress lunging slowly forward, hanging
Onto the ugly mesh of a shopping bag.
Her stench to high heaven wafts so rancid that
I pinch my nose tightly and turn away.
Gazing (instead) at my dear companion in the Garden
But lo and behold! my dear violinist rises
And welcomes the old hag, “Hi Lady, will you join us
For a Sunday snack here in the warm sun?”
Gazing at my dear companion in the Garden
I am all upside-down in my face as the homeless
One sprawls haggardly on the grass, her wretched,
Spotted shift wrinkling up her scraggly legs.
She reaches out a grubby hand, grabs one of our
2 sandwiches, and scoops half of it in her
Narrow jaws, chews open-mouthed and teethed.
I fume at this chomping ugly interloper.
Gazing (instead) at my dear companion in the Garden
But then awake, remembering almost too late,
The biblical story about the least of these, turn,
And finally join my dear musician's psalm,
We a communing 3 of human kind,
Under the verdant swaying trees of compassioning.
Gazing at our dear companions in the Garden
First pub. in The Oak Bend Review
in different form ; also in Dark Energy, a collection of Daniel's published poetry.
Get the whole book at Barnes and Noble, Amazon.com, and local bookstores.
A picture-post-card date near the wide
Serpentine sway of the wide Schuylkill River
Meandering through Central Philly's park garden,
Towered over by leaning elms, while 3 long canoes
Swift by to the paddling of Ivy League collegians.
Gazing at my dear companion in the Garden
My Friendly girl, Grace, chestnut-caped round
In waist-length hair like a swaying black ephod,
Vivid in her red chambray shirt and blue jeans,
Is an aspiring concert violinist but converses
Passionately of King's March to D.C. in 3 months.
Gazing at my dear companion in the Garden
I, the 'noble' drafted objector, work with lost-saken
Children confined to the gray mental ward
Disturbed by their absent parents' living,
But am still so youthfully focused and narrowed,
More concerned with my companion's
Figured shape than humanity’s ship of state.
Gazing at my dear companion in the Garden
We sit cross-legged on the lush parkway green,
Getting ready to eat our carefully bagged meal
Of 2 peanut butter and grape sandwiches
As we discuss the ravages of far-off Nam
And Bob Dylan's 'hard rained' croons.
Gazing at my dear companion in the Garden
But then I inhale this fuming putrid odor
Coming from behind; I twist my neck and see
About 6 feet away this bag of a lady in a filthy rag
Of a dress lunging slowly forward, hanging
Onto the ugly mesh of a shopping bag.
Her stench to high heaven wafts so rancid that
I pinch my nose tightly and turn away.
Gazing (instead) at my dear companion in the Garden
But lo and behold! my dear violinist rises
And welcomes the old hag, “Hi Lady, will you join us
For a Sunday snack here in the warm sun?”
Gazing at my dear companion in the Garden
I am all upside-down in my face as the homeless
One sprawls haggardly on the grass, her wretched,
Spotted shift wrinkling up her scraggly legs.
She reaches out a grubby hand, grabs one of our
2 sandwiches, and scoops half of it in her
Narrow jaws, chews open-mouthed and teethed.
I fume at this chomping ugly interloper.
Gazing (instead) at my dear companion in the Garden
But then awake, remembering almost too late,
The biblical story about the least of these, turn,
And finally join my dear musician's psalm,
We a communing 3 of human kind,
Under the verdant swaying trees of compassioning.
Gazing at our dear companions in the Garden
First pub. in The Oak Bend Review
in different form ; also in Dark Energy, a collection of Daniel's published poetry.
Get the whole book at Barnes and Noble, Amazon.com, and local bookstores.
