mail icontwitter iconBlogspot iconrss icon

Sport 10: Autumn 1993

Wall, Paper, Artist

page 91

Wall, Paper, Artist

They were overjoyed
to hold you, to have you
in their hands, those

proud dolls
swaying on their

pedestals. They were
startled, as the bee's
affectionate jostling

on a windy stem, not yet
back from the dead, dozing
past, following downriver

the heart-burst capes.
Your children possessed you.
They were not yet born.

Neither were you.
The river hungered for
its pale relatives, their

warm-breathed schedules,
their eyes—bells ringing
out of the blueness.

They were to be born
next week, or allow themselves
longer. Now they lie

page 92

with, their outlines
traced by it, their love
and wait, as the lights

on the south-
bound train wait,
for no one.