I place four fingers
to my breast beside my heart
Coltrane touches here

In the room, though not
for a long time, the
kettle on to boil.

He dies quietly
the clamor of before, stilled
one ring on his hand.

Putting on Brubeck,
lying back waiting to die
one whole year passes

These socks I have now
should last a good while; only
a handful of holes

Two old men toe-to-toe
one snores, head tipped back, mouth open
one takes in the news.

Kindergarten boy
waist-high to his mother’s hug
edge of the playfield.

Electric fan drones
rain splatters the night outside
I find sleep in between

I see seven miles
to the north, to the water
the Naval Station

Deep-nosed exhale–sob,
I think; the parade-goers
take no notice

I’ve tried all the things,
I’ve said, alcohol to Jah,
the sting still sits in

Cord pulled tight over
storm windows on the truck’s side
the bus shambles south

Boy in green jacket
testing his spring against the train
and happy to lose

That sunshine glow spreads
as the northbound train pull in…
it’s only one light.

Like anything else
I eventually stop
but not on this day

He makes a peace sign
at the D Line pulling out
five orchids in hand

She’s talking to God
or to something in the sky
keeping it civil.

A balancing act
two fat crows on thin branches
watch Convention Place.