illustrated guided to familiar american trees

the poem below by charlie smith reminds me of this great shot by cap. a bunch of new shots on the flickr gallery and more to come soon.


 
I don't get it about the natural world.
Like, greenery,
without people in it, is supposed to do what?
 
City sunlight, I say, how can you beat it—
the walk to the pool after work, shine
caught in the shopkeeper's visor, bursts.
 
I see myself moving around New York,
snapping my fingers, eating fries.
 
My ex-wife's out in California.
 
I wish she was over on Bank Street,
up on the second floor,
and I was on the way there
to call to her from the sidewalk.
 
There's a cypress on that block, two honey
locusts and an oak. I love those trees
like my own brothers.