Boston

sometimes bombs go off

at the end of a marathon

when your heart

is pounding in your ears

and your leaden feet pound the paved street  

the world turns into no man’s land

of shattered glass and lives

and your urge to finish is replaced

with the need to live

and you can’t get the ringing in your ears to stop  

and each second is in slow motion

like in that movie  

and your little boy was in that place

near the pressure cooker

holding up that sign with your name on it  

and you fall to your knees

nonono

Messiaen

it is sun-chilled spring when he strides onto your driveway

white wispy hair and horn-rimmed eyes

purple and orange woolly scarf 

you walk with him in morning blue

and hear the sparrowandrobinsong 

his voice is low and bell-like

talking of the order of things

solid springing earth

fresh clean air

blue blue heavens 

he wants to know about

the dance of the seasons in your world

the interplay of light and dark

of cold and warmth

of brown and green

of snow and rain

of branch and blossom 

of death and life 

and you hunch your shoulders against the chill

look up at the shining sun

and smile

Orion's belt

driving home from theater I look out

through side of car window

and see

Orion’s belt

Mintaka

Alnilam

Alnitak

huge suns

lined up in diagonal

cinching hunter’s waist

as he aims his starry bow

at celestial quarry  

a timeless tableau in night sky  

Lakota saw

the spine of a bison

in these three stars

the sky a giant prairie landscape  

now we know how

far          apart     and        how       far          away

these gigantic bodies actually are

and that Mintaka is

actually

two        stars

orbiting an endless dance  

but here on this highway

I can look up and take in

the theater of the

eternal quest

Vancouver

I lean on

massive tree trunk

lying on its side

waterlogged on the beach

beached at low tide

and see that this city was once rainforest

tall ancient trees covering coast

breathing the salty air

greening the land

at the base of snow-capped mountains  

now towered by glass and steel

and concrete

today’s terrible trees  

except along these sandy shores

of English Bay

where water rocks weeds

and clams endlessly mix with the sand

as the moon-drawn tides move in and out

in the shadow

of the newest ocean-side

mansion