Town Park as Tuning Fork

The forest
Fought itself quiet
For the sun

The little forest
Between township avenues
Raised its buds in reverence

The stillness in
The little forest
Gathered up the voices:

Toddlers calling for mama
Teenagers cursing triumphantly
Young mothers’ wry observations

The stillness gathered
The voices like a chisel
And sculpted the light

The little forest keeps
The fragile afternoon —
No footsteps, please,

Lest her charge get bowed,
Cracked, give way
Suddenly to evening.

Jesse Miksic is a graphic designer and writer living in Peekskill, New
York. He spends his life writing poetry, nursing unfinished projects,
and having adventures with his wonderful wife and daughter. Recent
placements include Whale Road Review, Leveler Poetry, Coffin Bell, and
others.