Half a Night

We took
three trains
in the
seven-oh-clock
midnight
of Montreal
in February,
just to see
the gap,
the stretching
of icy metal
over icier
water,
and all the
while you
smiled and
talk of the
great bridges
of the world,
the ones that
you would
see one day,
ones that
brought countries
together, ones
that made
you feel
light and
vertical,
ones that made
the walk
to get groceries
easier,
and when
we finally
arrived we
heard the dry
crack of ice
shifting,
the silence of
cold streets.

There we stood,
in the dark,
shivering, waiting
for the bridge
to reveal some
secret, some
knowledge of
the years spent
holding the
two halves
together, but it just
stood there,
as dark
as the night,
unflinching,
holding the gap.

Crown

We shed our city
skin that afternoon
as we tossed rock
after rock
into the murmuring
stream until
there was nothing
but the shallow crack
as the rocks piled up,
and we stretched
our tired fingers
over hard, dirty
surfaces just
to try to
stop the flow.

And we sat
exhausted on
the bank,
red handed
and blank,
dreaming of
wreaths of smoke
curling over
the tops of pines
and lofty, secluded
cliffs locking us
into this ecstasy.

And we fought
the urge that
told us that we
should get the
camera, that told
us to do something
to remember this,
that Wordsworth-light
dread of gleaming
images of ourselves
in apartment complexes,
remembering
the pure times.

And as
night painted
over afternoon
our eyes
saw again, revealing
Joyce’s tragedy
in our dreamy
longing for warmth.

I am a buoy

At your funeral
I stand in
the back, by
the marble cheese
and sweet pickles,
hoping that you’ll
know I’ve paid
my respects, that
you’ll see me
through the haze
of slow moving
people, and you
understand why
I can’t stand by
your coffin,
floating out
there amongst
your family
and friends
and those that
really knew you,
or at least I
hope you understand,
because I can’t
come closer,
even though your
coffin juts out
like a pier,
tries to reach
me through the
misty crowds
that talk of the
weather and
your old smile,
and I know
I am just a
buoy out there
in the sea
and you
are the dock
I cannot reach.