I Am Uprooting

Empty park bench,

the night’s music. Clicks
over croaks and buses—

wind breathing,
applause from shaking leaves
and I am the man
standing in the back
of the concert hall.

Empty park bench, I didn’t ask
for its empty— absence of nature
because the grass isn’t soft enough,

cage of metal, the reason
this music isn’t for us.

Trees and their wooden hands,
open palms,

I offer

I Am Uprooting