The Birds of Fort Greene Park

I've had a tough time. Moving from Brooklyn has been disruptive in that I have no one on Manhattan. A lost sense of community, also my daughter Angie's mom in Thailand has been very sick. Everything seemed to be going sideways. Almost like my soul is nothing, but today in Fort Greene Park I laid on the grass and let the earth, wind, and trees heal me. Still nothing but the right nothing. Especially the birds__

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Much more to come__

Kicking leaves II

Grammar school neighborhood kids coming down the hill from the Fort Greene monument commemorating the Continental soldiers who died on the Prison ships during the War of I dependence beneath the American elms, so yellow in the last throes of autumn, them kicking the leaves as they go as do I

ps the Prison Ship Martyrs Monument, is a 149-foot-tall Doric column constructed of Deer Isle granite

First Snow In New York City 2024

No snow
In New York City.
Three years.
Not cold neither.
Yesterday
Snow.
Two inches
Cold.
Not Omaha cold -40.
20 degrees Fahrenheit cold.
And sunny.

The wind cruel cold
Fort Greene Park.
Two inches of snow trampled by thousands and thousands of feets.
Each step immortal in the cold.
Steps atop steps
Like layers of ruins atop Troy.

The slope down from the Monument
Snow flattened by children's sleds.
Hundreds of sleds
Thousands of shouts of glee.
This morning
Nothing but me and the sun and the snow
And the cold.
Near Arctic cold.

Remember
Blackstrap Hill
Falmouth
Maine
1957
Five years old
With my brother, sister, and father.
No sun.
A gray sky.
None of us cold.
Inside our parkas not cold
Children from Maine are never cold
Until the sun goes down.

We trudge through knee-deep snow.
Dragging a toboggan and a sled.
The top of Blackstrap
I stand on the toboggan.
It slides slowly over the snow.
I put out my arms
For balance.
Picking up speed.
My father shouts,
"Jump."
I don't see why.

More speed
I fly
Faster and faster
Children in my path
I can't stop
I can't fall
I only fly.

At the bottom of the hill
A young girl
In my path.
No stopping
A straight line to the girl.
Shut my eyes.
No thud. No scream.
The toboggan comes to rest.
Open eyes
Step off
People laughing
Not my father.

"Go to the car."

I went, the girl smiled, I smiled back
The station wagon was locked.
I sat on the snow
Cold, the air cold, the snow cold.
An hour later
My father, brother, and sister
Dragging the toboggan and sled.
My father pulled me to my feet.
"Sit in the front. I'll turn on the heat."
Full blast all the way to Falmouth Foresides.

Not like today
Out the wind
In the sunlight
Fort Greene Park
Snow underfoot
The first snow in three years
But the same as Blackstrap,
Because as my father said,
"There are two seasons in Maine.
The season of good sledding
And the season a bad sledding."
And there is a lot of truth in those words
Especially with more snow coming
In two days.
More
Good sledding ahead.

Goodbye Summer August 19, 2023

August 19, 2023
This evening
in Fort Greene Park
the trees changed color
from summer green
to end of summer green

The sun set earlier
than yesterday
a sliver moon follows its celestial partner
west
to a horizon
Beyond Brooklyn's skyline

BBQs burn along Myrtle Avenue
Not as many as last weekend.
the leaves turn black
in the new night
the BBQ smoke smell of of hot dogs, burgers, and ribs
and meat
From prehistoric times

Everyone from the walt whitman houses
in the park
having fun
and the sky goes sapphire
the fingernail moon goes silver
And the August breeze cools the air

the people become shadows
it's time for me
to call it a day
but not an end to summer
The season has another month to go
with the days haunting shorter
with a new moon guiding the way
to the equinox
more than thirty days away
and the less green leaves still on the trees
awaiting autumn
and winter.
Goodbye summer soon.

FORT GREENE PARK SLUMBER

Laying on one of Fort Greene's Shady Groves The afternoon Not quiet Hammering from a construction site, Sirens, The rumble of Brooklyn A mumbled conversation of two young women The chirp of two grakels a distant dump truck dropping its load. Another conversation High-pitched. I can make out phrases The two young people are not discussing poetry A trio of young teenage girls replace the young women For a second they were hippie chicks in Boston Common 1969 Their laughter reinforced that mirage Their language is from the future. I can decipher their words Except for "...they're like..." I love the park of Babble. The spring wind hushes over the grove The leafy boughs bob in the breeze. More laughter Non-stop hammering Sirens. The silent wind rushing through the trees. The people The park The city We are us Alone apart together Fort Greene Park

Fort Greene Park Of Snowdon

This morning dawn cast the spring sun on the plaza of the Prison Ship Dead in Brooklyn's Fort Greene Park. Early morning joggers and drowsy dog-walkers were greeted by a new edition to the Olmstead-designed park, for a bronze bust of Edward Snowden, the man to out the NSA's illegal spying on American soil, had been erected atop a stone plinth by a team of sculptors.

The story of the statue had been filmed by Animal.com

This part of Brooklyn is more progressive than that island of wealth across the East River and in reality no one anywhere in the USA cares about the NSA spying on them, because most Americans say nothing worth anything 7/24/365 and they also confess their sins everyday on facebook.com

And none of them know well enough to keep their mouths shut or their fingers tapping on their cellphones, which overwhelms any chance that the NSA has to decipher the Tower of Babble's trillions of syllables crisscrossing the atoms of existence until the white noise of incomprehension.

And the US government was outraged by Snowden's revelations of a multi-billion intrusive illegal program with nothing to show for a single cent other than to say it's important to surveil the War on Terror.

Last week a Kenyan university was attacked by Somali extremists.

A brutal attack.

Same at Novel Peace Laureate Menachim Begin's attack on the Hotel David leaving 99 dead and scores of wounded.

The USA wants to listen.

But to nothing and the ancillary agencies of the CIA and FBI are more than willing to pursue anyone saying that they are not supposed to say in the Land of the Free.

The NYPD thought the same.

Within a few hours the Park Department had covered the bust with a blue plastic tarp.

Unauthorized art in a park is against the law.

The NYPD seized the statue to find DNA from the artists.

They could arrest anyone.

And the NSA will help.

Nice work Snowden.

Some of us will speak free.

Especially these sculptors.

They risked chance.

To see the video of the erecting of the bust, please go to this URL

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7rAhEpft5g

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