I Finally Managed to Speak to Her

She was sitting across from me

on the bus. I said, “The trees

look so much greener in this part

of the country. In New York City

everything looks so drab.” She said,

“It looks the same to me. Show me

a tree that’s different.” “That one,”

I said. “Which one?” she said.

“It’s too late,” I said; “we already

passed it.” “When you find another one,”

she said, “let me know.” And then

she went back to reading her book.

From “Poetry 180,” edited by Billy Collins

(Random House: 324 pp., $13.95 paper)