Here're the two stone lions. Paws up
balancing invisible candles,
and here are the chandeliers.
Here is the city skyline, glimpsed
on the southbound bridge home.
Trust bridges, they can be fixed.
They're steel; green and black.
They cradle other metal carriages.
Here are the oaks, some in early autumn
despite this 80 degree September 3rd.
The Hadley weeping willow hangs like a birdsong,
an upside-down chandelier. It sparkles
like the Connecticut River, like
an indefatigable kettle, like steam,
the skyline we put faith in not
to disappear, like early autumn
or the maples that light the parkway in October.