October 1998  – (from a note found in my drawing kit, 2010)


The Connecticut River moves south

And is canalled

Through the long mills of Holyoke.

Fall comes and the crows of New England,

Follow the water,

Squeezing between

The round-bottomed clouds and

The stone tower

Of City Hall, 1871.

Hidden under a red haze of scaffold.

The metal grid makes a rigid halo

Around the old stones.

Italians masons fix the arches their grandfathers laid.

Night and the loud crows settle on the hill.

The masons move impossibly fast

Down the ladders to stand

In groups on the slanted sidewalk

Looking up at the black shapes and listening to

Their terrible conversation.