number 34

number 34 trolley climbs out of the portal

in light rain 

magnolia buds burst like aging strippers

doing their number

year after year, blushing a little

you emerge from grocery shopping

Market Frankford El rumbles out of the

tunnel tooting like a tugboat in the faraway fog

and the thunder roars a bit

here comes the downpour

pushing your cart by the corner

the 42 bus veers in, skids, slops you

you trudge through flooded streets

darkened by the storm

here's the sycamore where you fell

seven years ago

the burly neighbor picked you up

put you into a van

and drove you home

forsythia yellow ablaze

fire converting mass into energy

garbage courses down the gutters

spring -- a twist of emotions

I don't know, maybe it's hope

maybe not, still, on reflection

it may not be hope but

it's all right