Babbling Brooks
A flag flaps furls flaps
 geese honk here and there
overhead an O’Hare engine
distant moans, drones
drip alley gutters drip, drip
in staccato rhythms,
syncopated sun melt.
Robins flit up and down
inside the chitter chatter
of sparrows as
one lone cardinal
chirps resonant red,
a downtown train
shuts its doors
squeaky brakes release
a March wind whispers
too loud, a twig snaps,
cracks unto leftover snow.
The dog barks
rebarks, reply barks
 screeching squirrel
wantonly warns
 Harlem traffic
barrels, brakes and beeps
a bunny silent,
then out of sight.
An ode to Brook’s Park, in March, in Chicago.

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