Returning to Houston I stumbled
upon a small park tucked like an
appendix on the lower east side
Finding an empty bench, I sat
back and watched little rainbow
children dance feverishly in a water garden.
To my left there is a little cruiseliner
of a convention center and directly
across the water, a quilt of a building whose
woven windows would make even the most
precise Amish hands, slightly green.
The sun is hot and settling
on my shoulders like some mink, but
as the buildings rise and the shadows
of the McKinney St. skyscrapers are
pulled over me like some stage curtain,
I am happy to be here in the city,
in the heat of its geometry.