I think Clinton Square is a wonderful resource to Syracuse and to people who visit the city. Visually it’s beautiful, and historically it’s wonderful, in terms of its relationship to the canal’s past.
When I’ve been there in winter, there’s something very stately and historic about the sculptures and monuments. If you’re skating and trying to stay warm, you might not observe them the way you would in summer, but they’re still beautiful.
When I was inspired to write the poem, I felt as though those heroes were enjoying the square as much as we were. Obviously it’s not rational, it’s imaginary—but I felt that they would have been pleased to be honored, and pleased that their space was being enjoyed and shared. If they could speak, what would they be saying?
Sculpted heroes stand
guard on the icy square where
cold blades dart and glide