The Bench Behind Stone Hall

by Shannon Donaghy

I wonder who it was that decided
That we should get to glimpse the Meadowlands
Beyond the suburbs of Little Falls
And just before the sprawling skyline
Over the sawed-off necks of cedar trees
Heads somewhere by the street down below

I sit a bit to the side of all that
Where the trees are still intact
Oaks and birches and underbrush
The bench where a mother racoon
Has been rumored to sit
After sifting through the garbage
There’s so little room for all this up here
Deer lingered outside my window last year
Leaning like billy-goats against
The sloping rocks of Clifton’s cliffs

I guess we’re all too busy
Gawking at the city lights
Out there in the mountainous middle distance
To notice the massacre