THESE ARE MOMENTS
(Newark)
Inside the Salvation Army Store, poor people were
buying glassware. Outside the doorway, just above,
on the brown-stone rock trestle, a train slid slowly by.
buying glassware. Outside the doorway, just above,
on the brown-stone rock trestle, a train slid slowly by.
Above that, and near, a take-off jet pierced the sky
while, above that, still, the daylight moon somewhat
while, above that, still, the daylight moon somewhat
stupidly stood watch. In jackets and gloves, someone
nearby stared; seeing nothing at all he hunched
away, thinking the same, small thoughts as ever
here before : that single, shingled roof in need of
more repair, the lamplight at the curb, broken
open and dangling on high. I tried to tell him
something, answer to his hunch, but he was
long already gone. A finished moment,
wordless before and now, wordless
after, all again, and gone.
No comments:
Post a Comment