Rushing Home To Brooklyn
It is 5:00 PM as we rush home
to Brooklyn to our townhouse
near Flatbush Avenue running to
catch the 5:30 PM subway with
many others who have made
plans to enjoy a three-day weekend
and get the needed rest from the hustle
and bustle of city life as if living in a
crowded ant colony with needless
movements going in all directions
adding to the helter-shelter of frenzied
lives which over-populated cities provide
for those who do not know any better
until they have an opportunity to visit a
farm for the special holiday weekend within
a bucolic setting and realize there is
a life of slow motion which insists
urbanites stop to smell the roses along
a country lane and take in the fresh
country air and the panoramic view of green
hillsides dotted with Jersey cows munching
and herding together without a care in the world
as a John Deere tractor rolls along with
Farmer Jones working his fields as birds
dig greedily to catch worms among the
the freshly plowed acreage with a harmonizing
song which is heard as a thank you for their
delectable meal all in the name for leaving
the big city behind as a brief window of
opportunity to escape to sanity to slow down
and feel utopia underneath our bare feet
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