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All along Spring Garden blooming

White trees on the concrete islands
Bound by traffic's blur and break,

We are leaving, pedal outward from

The throbbing center; a couple

Steps from the curb, he a

Bluechip on his ear, she with
CVS bag, and they wait for
A gap in the traffic. Blossoms,

Lamps, towers and forests,
Frame their frail wading. At Fairmount,

Parked, we sit by the river

Flowing, beneath a tree, and the blossoms,
Their shadows, and the wheel reflector
Rainbows on the grass,

And a Chinese child urinating on the grass,

And people loud in their bubbles
Talking along the river passing

Under the skies of planes
And the traffic on the mountain;
Voices rising and falling in the springtime.