The old Armory, built to resemble a medieval castle
but undergoing renovations that fall, was imprisoned
in a cage of scaffolding, and imprisoned with it, strangely,
was a tree, tall and dignified, very possibly a white oak,
a capricious branch of which reached through the steel bars
and zigzagged out over the sidewalk and sometimes when
I passed on my way to and from cancer treatment would
shimmer as if for me its few remaining heart-shaped leaves.
Howie Good's newest poetry collection, Frowny Face, a mix of his prose poems and collages, is now available from Redhawk Publications. He co-edits the online journal UnLost, which is dedicated to found poetry.
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