A big yellow taxi pulls up
where they’re planting new trees
on the paved forecourt of Paradise.
It’s Monday. We step onto
our respective escalators.
The mountain sits tight,
cooks up storms
that might break
or disperse
over neighbourhoods
where passers-by
watch attentively
while we’re dropping
our weekly recycling
into colour-coded bins.
On the paved forecourt of Paradise,
I’m watching the big yellow taxi
where it’s just pulled up
and the forest on the mountain
sits tight beneath the coming storm.
