by Thong Ba Le

Waving with the wind in the deserted park,
the old magazine hung over the bench
laying next to the littered, cropped grass
an old tennis ball sat by the steel fence.

Flocks of blackbirds in a formation
leaving behind sole cry of a late crow
extending its wings to companions,
in the purple sky with dew sinking low.

The painting of a butterfly hanging
on a yellow tennis ball, colorful
crinkled paper is seen in the evening,
when stars brighten up the cosmos in full.

Silent night is swollen by its petals
broken by the sound of steps on metal.

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