PLAYING BOSTON

An October rainstorm
below high windows
overlooking Boston Common
a sax in heard
by the bandstand gazebo
a sunrise bleaches us
below the blinds
playing Boston,
our cards held in check
never expecting jokers
in jazz clubs
on a faded smoke filtered
newly seasoned dawn,
we decide to leave the table
to walk on the Public Gardens
near the swan boats,
aristocratic twigs fall
near Frog Pond acorns
by thousand year elms
tugging on yellow jackets
now passing
revolutionary graves
dealt by an old hand.