Observational

At a distance,

The city's forest speaks

    Refuge

Near its edge,

The illusion breaks into boulevards,

Sidewalks winding toward some middle.

And once within the bounded woods,

Trees disperse

In ordered clumps,

Or garden rows.

They pose next to

Latin placard notes

Because we are forgetful.

Or scientific.

Or both.

Jul 2017

Lisboa

Porto