Kate Farrell
STAYING HERE
like a train cutting
past posts in a hurry
and little tunnel lights
like cathedral music
in the afternoon like
antique glass with curves
at the top and smooth
stripes like a V in
the road with zinnias
between not a thin
black man with red roses
but a shop with potatoes
and fruit in crates
and under the canopy
apple sized plums
like old wooden doors
where the doorman sits
and from three flights
up through the open window
all the yellow leaves
in the park below
like a river you look
out at not fences but
rectangles and arches
like painted radiators
and house fronts yellow
as a ceiling light and
green like a window box
or whistling at a corner
when it 's not very far
like steps that rum back
at the middle on the way
to the roof where there
are three grayish birds
waiting like cranes on a
