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In Central Park
by Karen Karpowich

the trees are the same as they were
before September 11.
When I walk leaves still fall.
I even wear the same shoes.
But I was younger before
more circumspect.
I’d never walked in the Rambles
fearful I’d get lost
too proud to admit that I could.
Now I have fierceness, ready
to find a fresh trail or a new landmark.
I feel more beautiful these days.
My skin smoother
My heart rugged
When I find a dried leaf
in the pages of my book
I remember why
it was saved.

©2001, Karen Karpowich


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