Prospect Park Lake
a silent fleet paddles by
streaming out in a v
behind the leader
a rat pokes its nose
out of the reeds
it’s waiting for us to pass
so it can run for the roots
of a nearby oak tree
as if on loan from
the set designer
there is, of course, a swan
it looks majestic but sounds
like a duck with a kazoo
lodged in its throat
the sound is shocking
a burp from Princess Grace
the requisite moon glows
behind a low, lush layer of cloud
silvering the waters
and in a moment of madness
I get down on both knees
take your hands in mine
lean in for a kiss
ask you not to marry me
3 April 2012
Brooklyn NY
/ / /
It’s National Poetry Writing Month! A poem a day, each day in April. This is the second poem I posted today. I wasn’t too fond of the first one.