I hold this day
Like a globe of cold
Steel, a silver
Ball bearing:
Heavy, perfect.
Weak sun washes me.
Metallic light
Silvers streamlined,
Uncluttered by summer’s
Vulgar fertility.
Squirrels crash
Through this neat sleep
In perpetual panic,
But they seem few.
Quiet peers back
Past the church spire
Like a placid face.
Hope, in bronze,
Has her back to me
Ankle pertly cocked
Busy with another
Granting gorgeous, lavish wishes
Vacations, love affairs.
Her hands reach up
Proffer gifts aloft,
A raft of distractions.
I turn away.
Already, the day
Is heavy and perfect,
A globe of cold
Steel, a round rock.
Dec. 2003
(Photos: Top, Tompkins Square Park, East Village, Dec. 2007; Bottom, the park's Temperance Fountain, 1888, by Henry D. Cogswell.)
This is incredible! Did you write it? WOW!! REally, WOWOWWOW!!
ReplyDeleteLove the pics, too, but the poem. Gosh!
Yep, it's mine. One of my brief bursts of creativity. :)
ReplyDelete"Hope" appears in the photo, but other sides have faith, charity and temperance. The statue is of Hebe - cup-bearer of the gods.
ReplyDeleteYou wrote this poem? It is fantastic! Thank you for posting it. and the pics--nothing I love more than nyc pics really.
ReplyDeleteYour poetry is fantastic my friend!
ReplyDeleteGreat poem Steve, really well written. Great snowy photo too.
ReplyDeleteSteve, do you think you can write something for the picture I just posted? 12/12.
ReplyDeletethis is wonderful steve. I still remember lines of the other poem you posted, way back. I love the globe of cold steel - and perpetually panicking squirrels - its been like that here.
ReplyDeleteyou SHOULD write more