October, Brooklyn
Walking past the brownstones,
no leaves yet on the ground.
Night as if it would be
forever night, inching
into the fabric of my coat,
prying the last hour
of conversation which is
still warm beneath.
The station is closed:
I follow the curve of street
where two bikers return
from a dark, silent ride.
Luminous green ahead,
the government buildings loom
with lit facades,
empty lawns.
Underground, construction workers
hunch exhausted on benches,
plastered in tunnel dirt.
I stand with others who also wait
for the slow rumble of steel -
Tonight, I can wait
through unhurried night.
Somewhere the train glides, as
in sleep, through its
long corridors.
1 comment:
i really love that metaphor of speech as heat- that in the winter the only way to keep warm is to surround yourself with people with whom you want to speak.
i like that the "curve" of the street matches the corridors that the train must glide through. lots of smoothness and level planes in this poem. the structure is also interesting: i like that every stanza is a little story of pictures you give the reader--the images, as per usual, are great.
the final stanza is especially lovely. it captures nicely that sense of quiet, wintery night.
the only thing i might consider is the repeated usage of night (?) "tonight i can wait..unhurried night" sort of parallels "night as if it would be forever night", but the flow of the words in the second stanza doesn't feel as strong. dunno. something to consider?
this is a very meditative poem, and i like that you've used punctuation and caps(!); they go quite well with this format.
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