For VS

I explain to the quiet Russian boy
that the streets of Moscow
have lingered long in my dreams
their golden domes glittering in my imagination
he stares and asks
if I plan to go alone
and if I have a gun

You see, here, the two questions
are hardly related
so I laugh when saying
yes then no

With a tired voice
He explains

His uncle, whose name he shares
who still lives in Russia, in the fabled city
was walking home at five p.m.
not two months ago
his own gun nestled in the soft cloud of his down jacket
and he stopped to cross the street
without a threat,
a single sound of warning,
a crowbar or lead pipe was
bashed into the back of his skull
splitting it in three places
and as he hit the ground he saw
frightened women drawing paper shades
looking away

2002