IMPROVISATION #97
BOSTON HARBOR

It is the last trading day
of a cold January
by Boston's home harbor
sunlight moves
its inner silence
of shade and shadows
by a poet's passing insight
as sparrows rise before me
over Elm tree shadows
catching its branches
on small patches of snow
covering Frog Pond
a Salvation Army tambourine
and bells are heard
above the bird calls
guessing it's grackles
as the dawn
overflows the marine waters
catching its ice flow
I'm devouring a green tea
with a half dozen
almond crackers
and Danish cheese croissants
never wanting to leave
these boyhood scenes
of laughter and wintry tears
with my aunt from Vermont
visiting me for an hour
with a memory ever after.