I wrote this after a trip to New York City. Enjoy!
City Trees
Pour slabs of concrete at my feet.
Make me bald and smooth.
Fashion roads to everywhere.
Dye the roots of the season’s hair
Till all her color changes moods.
Plant us all in sturdy lines
With wood-chipped pine and gravel.
Set us down with ruler spines
So that we know just how to grow
To make ourselves a model.
Such fashions are for city trees,
But not for wild oak or beech
Who do not keep to painting leaves;
‘Twould hide the beauty underneath
Like make-up on my true love’s face.
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