Autumn 2011
        "In a darkness of tribulation" —W. H. Auden

The new borders, uneven as any between rivals,
widen on the rim amid a buzz of splintered thoughts.
Those rooted in their lives—the wage earners—worry and fret,
while family men, women of substance, keep a wary eye.
The only ones asleep at two a.m. are the homeless
who flourish in doorways and lay claim to sidewalks and parks
and pass out under the oaks tendering a wide, free shade.
Enthralled to the streets, the youths travel them in hot, close packs.
One by one, city officials abandon long-held posts.
For lack of pay, patrolmen leave their uniforms at home
to wander the scene where stores empty and houses foreclose.
The skidders, loaders and wheel dozers are all quiet.
The fatted calves grow lean at the paved intersections
where abandoned signs of wealth blink red and green like Christmas.
Those who have not may yet arrive as the weather turns foul.
What was once attention and pride is now a kind of sleep.
The crossing is fated. The crossing will be epic.

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Copyright © 2022 Zara Raab All rights reserved
from Swimming the Eel
David Robert Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission