Bosca Dubh

I wonder how many old men last winter
Hungry and frightened by namelessness prowled
The Mississippi shore
Lashed blind by the wind, dreaming
Of suicide in the river.
The police remove their cadavers by daybreak
And turn them in somewhere.
Where?
How does the city keep lists of its fathers
Who have no names?
By Nicollet Island I gaze down at the dark water
So beautifully slow.
And I wish my brothers good luck
And a warm grave.

The Minneapolis Poem by James Wright

Oh, how the winter does linger this year . . .

Washburn Water Tower, Tangletown neighborhood, Minneapolis, MN.