A Grated Stage

The granite curb gave way to the wide expanse of city pavement. Just beyond the foot traffic, a square cast-iron tree grate framed the base of a young ginkgo tree. I crossed the concrete line, stepping directly onto the dark metal lattice. The geometric slots formed a crisp rhythmic grid under my boots. Leaning against the rough bark of the trunk, a discarded silver chain from an old keychain caught the midday light. I retrieved the looped links, coiled them twice around my wrist as a weighty metallic cuff, and tested a sharp pivot on the iron bars. The street has its own stage.