What the North teaches II

You might miss
what the north teaches
in its crow calls
even its cat-like resilience.
Deluge and its burden
white like snow, covers all detritus.

Brown faces sometimes smile
at children
throwing rocks in hopscotch.
Crow-like hops.

There is an evening tide
effervescence only in
lights that prism: sky-like,
wondrous perhaps on a puddle
or two- stroke leaking fuel.

Into this, the river throws
rainbow trout at you like confetti.
The whole shebang is either inappropriate
Funereal mirth or elaborate and well-staged

Wedding; who do we marry?
Here we make a spectacle
Of our difference.
Provincial ideas of dirt and grime
Need not apply to men
Who wear work gear to bank appointments;
smell of sawdust and diesel, when they
pick up babies they leave trails of enormous black.
Fingerprints on minute muffled bodies.

Southward the crows may flock
In greater numbers
Stroll out in avenues of diligent expectancy.
Call overhead to the two people sleeping
Head to toe in the greek orthodox doorway.
They slumber well past noon.

Dawn cannot be avoided
in the northwest.