1939, CEDAR RAPIDS

Walking, alone, from Franklin Junior High, an afternoon

I found, as if by chance, in the macadam road,

A ruby-throated grosbeak, dead and maggot-torn.

That morning, when I stoked the night-banked furnace,

On the basement floor, down on my haunches,

I read declarations of the wars from last week's papers.

The headlines buzzed like flies around my head and flies

Buzzed around the bird as I stooped down to look at death.

That day, in shop, I put the varnish on a boat I carved

And, further down the road, six blocks from home,

I saw some Bitter-Sweet, popped chrome and orange,

And knew my boat was named, first thing I ever made to name.