Three Boys

Three Boys

(for Mark and Norm)

at night

like young birds, the

hunter's gun

at rest, perch in maple

limbs

on all sides

the city

has occasional

eyes of red

light grinding out

of sight

around corners

a woman lifts

her angry voice

a cat moans

and sirens wail

far out

over the blocks

in this maple

haloed by one

street light,

no sound

eyes close

leaves shiver

branches sway

these three

whose cradles

have yet

to fall