Week 42 – Banana Bread

Banana Bread

There is something in the way the wind moves.

I am a small tree, clinging to the roots I can put down.

It is too sunny, too hot,

And yet I love the imperfections.

Teach me to love the summer again. 


Week 40 – North Brooklyn

North Brooklyn

I watch the windows.

A tree grows in the small yard,

Its wide leaves shade my fire escape.

The branches tall in the snow.

It is a whisper, that things will be all right.