rewriting landscape.


Anh-Hoa Thi Nguyen

Breath of Wonder

Poet’s Walk, Central Park, NYC


Leaves are falling scarce and haphazardly like feathery volcano ashes. Sun setting, a sleepy
eyelid. The canopy of trees twenty shades of green, green yellow – lining the sky with
neglected crayons (leaves hint of honeydew, of green tea, of mint and parsley.) In the
distance four taxis caravan by, airplanes soar overhead – I heed the faint tap, tapping of
soles while sitting cross-legged and quiet beneath tree limbs bent crazy like a wild dream –
an interpretive dance, shadows carved like the veins of a nectarine seed, cantaloupe skin.
Branches streaming out like rivers, like children running, like jazz music and Vishnu’s arms,
like electricity and lightning and reasons to swing and climb and rest. Like hair in the
morning, the wrinkle around eyes, a beautiful mistake.


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there 2006, 2007