Thursday, November 18, 2010

Prospect Hill (Somerville, Massachusetts) ((poem))

Behind my house there is a hill
with steep steps that lead up

to an actual castle. That is where I stand.
The sky is gray but the wind
is more forgiving than usual.
My name means "princess" so

the scene is fitting -- body leaned
against cement barriers, looking up
at the stones holding up the nation's
flag, looking down to drink in
the view spilling from Union Square
to Boston. There is downtown. Reach out.

This is my kingdom. This is my coronation day.

Friends stand near me and we all look
at the path that brought us here.
Ghosts of footprints won't leave
thermal images with these breezes
but we don't need that kind of proof

to believe in what brought us here today.
This is the castle behind my home.
This is the place I have come with friends
to make confetti of the past and throw it up

in the solid wind. Look as it falls down.