Malcolm X Park #1

I bathe in dusk
while the mockingbirds build,
the starlings gossip,
and the sparrows nag.
A mosquito brushes my face
then moves on, as though realizing
I’m not who he was looking for.

Wary eyes glance at me
over masked mouths, as
the orange tongue of sunset
retreats to another roofline.
Street lamps click on
in this library of trees,
illuminating our shared solitude.

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