Once more

For Boston

In the silvering of light, in the brief race of day,

They go on before us. In the run to say who won,

Pheidippides steps off glory, here in Boston.

What agonies we bleed to know the route is done.

And what of those with no knees now to pray?

What will become of them, here in Boston?

My wife’s first steps when she chased a walking dog

Were on the Common. Now when we visit her days.

Whose shade will follow us, here in Boston?

Here in Boston, eight-year-old Martin Richard

Floats on forever on his still-strong legs. Here

In Boston, Krystle Campbell rises, in Boston,

Refusing to stay among the honored dead.

Lu Lingzi, where did you first learn to walk?

In some bright and spreading other common?

And the dozens down and broken, blasted back

To their toddling days: Will they stand to see

The race the others surely won, here in Boston?

I want to turn back all the calendar’s leaves

To the day before that marathon. I want to leave

Off a finish line so all will run forever, from Boston.

On and on, now and now and forever for forever,

They rise and run, and Krystle is taking Martin’s hand

And Lu Lingzi catches them in the silvering light of Boston.

My love, my only wife, my one heart, when you

Took off after that dog, did your mother laugh?

Did Martin’s mother clap when he first stood in Boston?

But hear us, patient light. Give us the smile

Of Lu Lingzi. I want to hear birdsong break when

Martin Richard stands again to walk, here in Boston.

This massacre will not stand. It will not stand!

Nor will it run the route from Marathon to Athens

To shout out its darkest name, not from Boston.

We will keep running, dear heaven, let us keep running

Until we find a new freedom under God, the joy

Meant for Martin, the dazzling light from Krystle,

The ineffable joy of China in the cheer of Lu Lingzi.
Let us rise. We will stand with them at the finish line.

We will inhale the precious light coming from Boston.

On Patriot’s Day, freedom still rings from our Boston.

Into the bleeding night, tears head toward our Boston,

A new river, a new destination, a new love, here in Boston.

  

In Boston

My heart is breaking for the people of Boston this morning. I know and love the town, and my wife was born at Mass General and learned to walk on the Boston Common.

A few years back, I won a literary award and received it only a few blocks from the site of the Marathon explosions yesterday. The city was unimaginably beautiful and has so many associations for my family.

But this is not about people who visit the city from time to time. It's about the dead and the injured. It's about the wonderful people of a great city. It is about evil, which must be fought without ceasing for all our lives.

Boston is a strong city. I look forward to going back. Today, more than any time in my life, I am a Bostonian. All Americans are.