Beginning as usual in the dark
well of an expensive late-night taxi,
you recall this scene; your father rushes

It’s the broken phrases, the fury inside him.
Squiggling alto saxophone playing out rickets
And jaundice, a mother who tried to kill him

I am looking at a movie
In which the monster is
Never seen—so far.

Then two juncoes trapped in the house this morning.
  The house like a head with nothing inside.
The voice says: come in.

The water tower poses a challenge. Against
   the shadows of the sky are planes of light.
There seems to be no touching, but actually

The white birch saplings choiring in a praise
of sunlight, spring, late April, the little voices
of nature’s chorus for the clearing that was

You see a bright ship
with a flourish of little banners
formed in one single gesture

As if they were trying to build on a different thought
the clouds accumulate between sun and the city,
so the beams go wide and break into sheaves of light.

Love, here we stand at the beginning
of our life together, and I find myself
thinking of a hot summer night

Inside the silver body
Slowing as it banks through veils of cloud
We float separately in our seats