Chelsea Square

OCTOBER 1975

DOUGLAS CRASE

CHELSEA SQUARE

There are these remnants of what was local

And planned-for in our lives, deep doorways

Lingering, Greek details shut away in shadow

And brownstone in truncated strata

Hugging the island as if this were the afternoon

It was finally going to throw them off.

In the aggravated geology of the city there are

Whole neighborhoods having their ups and downs,

The thunderous bedrock erupts into planar bluffs

That split and glow, and somewhere around four

On chill afternoons it seems the prodigious schist

En masse from river to river will lift the city

On mica cliffs, tunnels and bridges dangling,

And sleek chips of isinglass fall away to sparkle

All at once above the surface, one at a time.

How long has it been since glacial assurances

Backed off to leave this split in the terminal

Moraine through which the ocean rushed to maroon us

Among its estuaries and tidal straits? Right now

The gulls rise like a thousand magnesium fires

Among the incandescent sky-high towers. We have

Touched the sun, if only with the horizon,

And already in the cold streets night fills

I

The formidable aftermath. Here and there

At different levels around us the separate lights

Appear, tiny as campfires on a distant hill.

Out of reach across the river, dark and inevitable,

The gathering mainland is beginning to breathe.