A flurry floats
down Adams Street
on the second day of March.
Snowflakes paw
at the passing cars like
cats, unobserved
by the drivers who
ignore white lines to dodge
pedestrians, bursting
like unguarded sneezes
into the street.
A snowflake lands
on the tip of
a boy’s nose and
he smiles at the sky.
His mother holds
his hand and stares
at the crossing signal,
while father’s eyes
dart across the ads
pyramiding from
the tops of taxi cabs.
No one on the street
wears a hat. They
do not notice the falling
of snow. Inside the
transparent lobby
of the Sears Tower
there are four
groupings of tall trees.
Above them Man
defeats Nature
with a jet-black gesture
jutting into
the dandruffy sky.
The father puts his hand
up to the glass of
the chimpanzee exhibit
at the Zoo. The chimp
puts his hand up
to meet his better brother.
He screeches violently,
bangs on the glass
as the family steps back
just a tad. The child cries.
“He’s just excited
to see us.” laughs the dad,
biting into a banana.
The ape will die
in his cage. The child
will never understand.
And for years that boy
will furrow his brow
in front of the television
every time the Energizer
bunny bangs his drum
and sounds the endless
March of Man.