For the City of Lincoln
I turn onto O Street
From 14th in the middle of the night
I see a streetlight bending beyond the shadow
Of its pole to kiss the asphalt
In the stomach.
This thing is going to happen again.
My muscles squeeze to a stop
My teeth rattle hallelujah in front of the African store
My heart halts at the red light
Pulling the season with him to a freeze:
This thing is happening again.
I reach for Vine all covered with fallen leaves now
Brown brown and dry dry
This lively fountain behind me shall die, soon
And that glee stream too,
Taking with him his running joy into the grave of ice
But I shall be here, still
Coiled in the folds of her sanctuary
Whiffing this rusting heart
And kissing the sunshine in the cold of this Winter.