Lift a word from an
ampitheater branched
in a semi-circle elbow
of the Charles,
worn with fervor,
a summer disturbance.
This park must
have a name.
These trees are
older than most
of the city.
A trail of earth-tones
inhabits frequent
failure or the
surf intoned
orthodox version
of the play maligned.
I've walked along
Brattle and Mt. Auburn
streets rained upon
to get here.
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