Missing Central New York

Where I come from the
sky’s gravity weighs like
a jury bringing verdict,

earth sings arpeggios
of green,

apple trees wave blossom
scarves to woo suitors,

and Hades’ breath
strips trees of
their russet ochre shawls.

Where I come from it is
possible to walk
away from

this concrete madhouse,
to encounter a heron
startled into flight.

—
Poem #3 (or the beginning of one) for NaPoWriMo.