Cool Springs

a secret wetland
caught hidden
atop a city plateau

from the marshy waters
spurts a fountain
a dog
canters into

the shallows
and robins twitch
they are only secretly happy

old photos of the park
show men cleaning
the reservoir

that was once here —
men with bowler hats
gave kisses

a sun trickling yolk
as if free I run laps

around old desires
and habits

across the iron-fenced trail
Victorian houses roost below
a rocking horse
filling a window

when I lean upside down
the houses swoop up
towards green


This poem was written right after I went running on one of the first days in which last year’s interminable winter began to thaw into spring, and I discovered Cool Springs, a historical reservoir and park right around the corner of my Wilmington apartment.

cool springs

Leave some footprints:

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: