Wednesday, April 10, 2013

The Softness of Spring

New York
speaks gibberish
because it is so very old.
It deserves all its jewels
to cover up the scars it has endured
from a lifetime of watching
ground balls go under
the glove of the shortstop
over and over;
a lifetime of so much hope.

The only thing it is good for anymore
is to teach the young
with a kindly kick to the teeth
and a bill for how much it costs to be wrong
—the best way of learning—
and I, unbelievably, am young.