Patricia Whiting           West Palm Beach      (Stacie M. Kiner)
A Time to Weep

All day a haze 
obscured the sun.  
The moon rose 
with saffron luminosity.
Ghost trains rolled through
the towns of suburbia,
past stations where
unclaimed cars remained
all day and night
and the following
days and nights. . .

Let the noon whistle blow
in the towns of America.
Let the hurdy-gurdy man
awaken from his slumber.
Bid him come and bring
his playful monkey.
Let calliope bands whistle
quavery melodies.
Set the starry carousel atwirl.
Mount the prancing filly.
Reach out and seize
the brass ring–
never mind it isn’t gold.
Put the bits of colored glass
back in the kaleidoscope.
​
Later came the rains–
in torrents, in sheets,
drumming the land
for days without cease,
as if to wash away
the sins of the world.
​