Across from Trinity

The granite tiles were laid beneath a shell
of clouds that glowed with city light, my steps
absorbed by pensiveness perceived within
the very molecules of air that hung
too hallowed for a man to lightly breathe
without due reverent expectancy.
A woman stood in awe and bade me look.
On thrones upon the steps of knowledge raised
there sit the bronze-wrought goddesses of Art
and Science, contemplating each their sphere
or pallet, isolated each in their
own thoughts. Upon the head of Art was perched
a falcon that, unflinching, glared at us
with gold-eyed timeless wild ferocity:
a man, a woman, Science, Art, a hawk
a sidewalk strangely devoid of pigeons.
Perhaps this would be considered a sign
In somebody else's religion.

Art