In the mid-city, under an oiled sky,
I lay in a garden of such dusky green
It seemed the dregs of the imagination.
Hedged round by elegant spears of iron fence
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cool and beautifully penned it here hung the fatted souls of animals, Wile at my eyes bright dots of butterflies Turned off and on like distant neon signs.
Shapiro is a genius... (There is a typo in the fifth line of the second stanza - should be 'while' not 'wile' - I don't know how to fix it)
excelent marrying of nolstagia for the country cool and beauty of solitude in a chaotic city environment.
In the mid-city, under an oiled sky, the dusky green perception was wonderfully witnessed. A gutter of poetry flowed outside the yard when the poet was deeply motivated. The garden still existed in memory. A Garden In Chicago has greatly inspired the poet. This is an amazing poem..