this afternoon I sat cross-legged
on a wooden platform built
ten feet off the ground
between the slender trunks
of three avocado trees
thinking that I would
be inspired to write
a poem about nature
in the inner-city
instead I got lost
for hours
in the partial shade of a canopy
of broad almond-shaped leaves
with the western sun
warming my back
watching as a cool southwest wind
wended its way through the branches
of avocado and persimmon and peach
and chapa and preenh trees
tickling their leaves and causing them to rustle
adding to the symphony already being played
by the airplanes flying overhead and the
distantly-cawing crows and the
school buses rumbling down the street and the
birdsong of curious little birds
hopping from branch to branch around me
and these, these words
written long after the sun has set
are about as successful
at recreating the feel of the afternoon
as I was
at writing a poem at that time