just life, on lawn

this the lawn
the traffic near
the building buzz of
some motor needing to
command some powerful something
over there
and
here
in our ears

and yet
birds stil call,
talking to God,
or each other,
or the ears of the listening
Ones,
and students,
in some much black,
pace slowly
and talk earnestly
on another patch
of lawn
all so near to the pine,
spreading branches thirty forty feet u
and out, too,
forgetting it's in a city

life in all it's
fresh fall day
beauty
is here
within
and without
the story,
and shucks,
there you
are, sweet friend,
reminder of the Friend,
knitting closeby

nice

i follow my breathing
and smile

i have just read poems
about more deeper nature
farther into pond
and forest,
not muffled in traffic,
and part of me
wishes
i were there, too

and so wishing
i
am