Peterborough
Soldiers march down the scaffolds.
An invisible army lays siege
To the iron skeleton
Arched over the sidewalk,
Dimly lit by winking eyes.
Their bodies fall and
Bounce off metal.
Twisting, writhing,
Breaking as they fly
From beam to beam,
Resting at last in
The peace of
The pool of
Their liquid countrymen.
Their flight leave no scratch
On the giant's great form,
Yet the thousands of
Tiny falling bodies
Scarr it nonetheless--
The whine of the tower's groaning
Under a siege of raindrops
Makes a tempest of this
Gentle evening shower.
Were it day and a different part of town
Children would twirl in the drops
Which seek to conquer towers
Which seek to raise themselves
Above the trees,
To drive out anything higher than they,
even the sun.
As the clouds part,
And the sky stops grieving,
The universe bears its wounds
For all the world to see:
Bullet holes,
Leaks of life blood, distant suns,
Dimmed by artificial day
In this artificial night.
These bear testament to ancient longings,
Fading quickly in the forever
Birthing of this city--
Save to those with memberships to the MFA.
Showers are for cleansing,
But no flood could wipe clean
The sins of this city,
And yet it rains.
An invisible army lays siege
To the iron skeleton
Arched over the sidewalk,
Dimly lit by winking eyes.
Their bodies fall and
Bounce off metal.
Twisting, writhing,
Breaking as they fly
From beam to beam,
Resting at last in
The peace of
The pool of
Their liquid countrymen.
Their flight leave no scratch
On the giant's great form,
Yet the thousands of
Tiny falling bodies
Scarr it nonetheless--
The whine of the tower's groaning
Under a siege of raindrops
Makes a tempest of this
Gentle evening shower.
Were it day and a different part of town
Children would twirl in the drops
Which seek to conquer towers
Which seek to raise themselves
Above the trees,
To drive out anything higher than they,
even the sun.
As the clouds part,
And the sky stops grieving,
The universe bears its wounds
For all the world to see:
Bullet holes,
Leaks of life blood, distant suns,
Dimmed by artificial day
In this artificial night.
These bear testament to ancient longings,
Fading quickly in the forever
Birthing of this city--
Save to those with memberships to the MFA.
Showers are for cleansing,
But no flood could wipe clean
The sins of this city,
And yet it rains.