Another Time and Place

Stars shining through the black confetti of night
recall memories of another time:
I am a child
sitting by the window
in my grandparents’ living room.

I am a child waiting
for the first blush of dawn
to scatter
the blue blossom of morning
and extinguish the blaze
of sparkling Polaris.

I am a child watching
as soot rose
from the striped chimneys
of a zinc smelter,
blew
across my line of sight
blistering my joy,
as it bled the day of color.