“‘Benedictions’ Inside Park Street” by Lindsay Donovan
Photo Credit: Justin Yeung, obtained and licensed through Unsplash
“Benedictions” Inside Park Street
After the sculpture by Ralph Helmick
Peace be with you—
another you, another morning, waiting for the train
metallic birdsong screeches
above the pieces of railing rupturing sparks
above those shaking empty cups, hands shaking
above you
aluminum plated, layered Melanin tendons
and thumbs. Mud birthed out of white bricks
showing preacher’s hand, soft as syndrome
signing blessings or neuropathy
Palms open up pink to receive
Pigeons coo their undecipherable
Psalms while the erhu is plucked
and strains, indistinguishable
from the squealing of brakes
Palms open to throw change in a casket
train doors close, melted down chain-link
closing mouth shut, choking back a blue tongue
closed up, bulbs caught
in an early frost
scurrying rats hide in between the tracks
scuffed tiles, refracting fluorescent and indifferent faces
frosted with grime, ware,
glance at a scene, hop on the next train
pass by a boy, his
Palms open on the ground
the petals of them still warm
the flushed and tawny cells, not yet dying
little plastic vial, chalky as eucharist, still sheathed
not opened, closed
above him,
above those tremoring in perpetual transit
a sculpture no one notices anymore
the “gesture, unmistakably Christ’s”
another you, not in mourning,
walk up out of the lower platform
to the street, greet
the sun and the air, remark what a blessed day.
—And also with you.
Lindsay Donovan is a New England poet who graduated from Emerson College in 2015 with a Bachelor of Arts in Writing, Literature, and Publishing with a minor in Political Communication. She has been published by Knight's Library Magazine, Touchstone Literary Magazine and has a piece forthcoming in Wild Roof Journal. She currently works at Boston Healthcare for The Homeless Program where she teaches an introductory poetry course to veterans. Lindsay lives in Somerville with her two cats, Helena and Tusk.