The Sawn Bench: Poems

by David Appelbaum

The park is where you go when you need space. It is not pretty, not well kept. Branches are broken and sawn off. Yet things happen. Under the planetrees, children play, lovers quarrel, sailors smoke, men play bocci. Trysts, mishaps, crises, illuminations take place. It is sunny or gray, quiet or noise-filled. In the park is a presence. Sit a while and it fells you. When you get up, you are different. - David Appelbaum.

64 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1992

About the author

David Applebaum is a professor of philosophy at State University of New York at New Platz.