and here in Corvallis
near the Arts Center
Claudia stands
with the basalt columns
it's the anniversary
of her son's death
the tree branches clatter
and thrash above her
rain begins to sting
the cobbled walkway
the columbine
and snap dragons dance
a frenzied dance
but Claudia is as unmoving
as the basalt
she looks into the stone
as if it were a window
and like the leaf
I want to have tumbled across
the cobbled square
into the child's imaginative
hand
before being let go
to the wind
and ground