Time was suspended
as my car moved blithely along its
well-worn route to work
When my eye seized upon a sight that
is usually saved for the silver screen,
The corner of my eye somehow parsing
two speeds of reality.
I caught a glimpse of a solemn, middle-aged man
behind a lectern and four younger men
in identical black suits,
standing and listening attentively,
right in front of him like a devoted flock,
While a woman in a grey suit and clipboard
stood dutifully to the side of the leader,
her appearance conjuring up the image of an
It looked, and felt just like a funeral,
minus, of course
the weeping women,
and the deferential groundskeepers.
What I happened upon was a dedication,
an inauguration of Corporate America's latest effort to
provide a sliver of public space.
A necessary part of their corporate image, no doubt...
A very austere piece of real estate along a busy
just enough design to warrant an architect,
just enough foliage to require a gardener, and
just enough benches to draw the pigeons out.
I pass by this mini-park everyday on my way to work,
still haunted by that vision I saw years ago.
I suspect that others might feel the desolation that was
poured into that little plot of land.
Why else would I have never seen
more than one soul there at a time?
I see a bass clarinetist serenading
those austere sculptures,
doing his best to be a different kind of witness...