The hatch shell was filled with Haydn
Clouds moving east above it
Growing as they did, roseate
Against the fading sky, and grey.
Brahms brought the waltzing night
And a flock of geese flew to the river
The fountain in Copley Square is still.
It's basin trembling with reflections
Of the tower of Old South Church
While 8 young women pass;
Tall as giraffes and lithe
Their silk dresses bright like jewels,
Short like flags above their heeléd legs.
Laughing, they wear plastic crowns
And party beads and two hold hands.
A bachelorette party they tell me,
I wish well and happy the bride.
The man making my meal
Is blond and wears a baseball cap.
And his skin is fine. Inside
His arm is a tattoo. Initials
And small dates rank up his arm.
As he hands me the bag
And says my name I see
The list is long. He wears it with grace.
Along the park the sky is deep
I see some stars, the horizon glows.
It is beautiful.