Splinters

Steve Klepetar

 

All day those quiet men
watched, their eyes held
open with splinters of flame:

 

it’s Easter and boats sail out
on the river running cold and free
past Cathedral Street, spires
and a new

 

park, stone wall skirting
cliff’s edge, eggshell white
against pastel sky

 

where screaming jays
lurch

 

and break and plummet
above green

 

willow haze.

 

How empty the twilight now
where river snarls a wrecked
raft of logs

 

and late runners follow their dogs
into the hollow jaws of night.

Euphemism Campus Box 5555 Illinois State University Normal, IL 61790