ODE TO FREEDOM Can you see the beauty in a blade of grass? I can. Just walking down the street breathing, taking in all the city has to offer. Exhaust, the aroma of food, the smell of hot pavement in summer, that cool smell once it has rained. That’s freedom to me. Can you see the beauty of the rush of air that precedes the A train as it comes to Fulton Street from B.K.? I can. To be able to look in her eyes and just trace the curve of her face with my finger... in silence, even if it’s only for a moment and only a memory... That’s still freedom to me. Can you see beauty on the tiniest or grandest of scales, be it a baby’s coo, or the thunder’s rumble? I can. Just the fact that I sit right here, right now, delivering this poem to you... That’s freedom to me. What does it mean to you?
Erik R. Nusom (a.k.a. Finesse)
SITUATIONS 45
