Two Poems

Lifting Boats for Winter

crossing at Cos Cob on the train
on my way to the city & to you
      I notice the boats      a few remain
tethered to their jetties like leftover parts
sprued to some model kit      & the balance
      shrink-wrapped for winter      extends
on the wharf’s hardstanding like a cold front

      I wonder about likely ice
in a month’s time & those who can’t afford
to hardstand boats & whether ice thickens
sufficiently to crush a hull      & a heron
glimpses herself clear      & I think if – because it’s too fast
on the train to study the birds – that’s why birds watch us
unbothered
                        ‘& I’ll tell you something else’

says the Central Park prophet      rising
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