WAITING FOR A BUS ON THE STEPS
OF THE COPLEY SQUARE LIBRARY
 
Tonight the moon throws light
on the height of the Hancock, 
illuminates the colors, curves and lines of Trinity Church.
Tonight, the buildings seem
a reflection of us
filtered of anything impure or wavering.
Tonight, the buildings seem
like finished things,
like the full moon beside the Hancock
against the black of space.
But the buildings are from living things,
unfinished things, and yet,
no malice can I find in them tonight.


This poem first appeared in PDQ, Final Issue 2006-2007.