At first, a block away, there were cornfields,the fields of Rengel’s Farm, the last ones leftin town two suburbs straight north of Chicago,fields sold then

Sitting at the end of a lakeside dock,with solid cedar boards below my chairbut ever-flowing water underneath,I saw a cumulus cloud toweringlike a holy city

Cathedral elms once graced our street Before they cut them down.As rot seeped into greenery,On came the chain-saw sound. Cathedral elms were God’s sure signOur