GARRETT PARK
The day here begins in the eighteenth century:
No trains, planes, or automobiles. Birdsong, rather.
A farmer's market lays out tables down the street.
A choir in the Catholic church rehearses.
At eight the trains arrive from Harper's Ferry.
The industrial revolution is underway.
Handmowers, mailboxes, dishwashers, bicycles.
The buzz also of dogwalkers talking among themselves.
Cars are the following era, and planes from Reagan,
But cars are few, and planes keep their distance.
There's still not quite the din of the twentieth century.
Still a village quiet. Quieter still
Is the twenty-first. The dogwalkers walk heads down
At their cell phones. Electric cars are silent.
Evenings of course are timeless - black skies, stars -
Except for the strange passage of satellites.