urban nature.

the hammock sways gently
as the
BOOM BOOM BOOM
of the washing machine
echoes adjacently.

lights turn on in the windows
across the alley
and a baby laughs
over the cry of a woman
next door.

leaves rustle
(it’s a springtime rustle),
fresh with new blooms
along the narrow branches
much too small for climbing,
(though I want to scurry up those limbs
like a kid in a big backyard
empty of parents).

a timer goes off—the oven’s ready
—and a breeze carries the sound of
my clock singing tick tock

tick tock
tick
tock.