Homage to the trees of Oakland

My my my
I saw white shoes gleaming in the sun,
hanging from shoelaces on a power-line
Ornaments of the electrical strands
that encircle our streets
Electrify our homes

I saw cutouts of light filtered down from new green
Columns of magenta paper flowers
Fields of white poppies wafting like slow melodies or women's skirts in merry breezes
Bright-expansive trees lifting their nimble young limbs n’ leaves
Lifting lifting lifting lightening lightening laughing into the

And my god was the sky blue! it was
(said while nodding with eyebrows raised)

Everything was roses
White full rose blossom clouds
Tuberose perfumed air lifted strands of hair from my head
and found places for them on my lips
and in the corners of my eyes

All the houses offered up the images of their children
Taped to glass windows were oasis of palms, cut outs of oak trees,
portraits of sweet and lovingly simplified families,
people holding hands and happy looking dogs
They offered up their best images of humanity
To the sun and the street
They offered up their best

Today, even the little delicate leaves of unknown weeds
Thriving in the sun and through the cracks
Aspired to ornament the day with their best shades of green
To flatter the sidewalk and streets with humble offerings

Oh Oakland, what beautiful trees you have

This is a poem I wrote last spring and I am publishing it now in anticipation 
of the sun and the blossoms, that are not yet here, but are about to come into being. 
We await patiently and reverently.

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