Two finches lay still
surprised into death
two squares of sidewalk separated them; the window behind promised sky
It was a lie
I went out into the sad autumn light, where
A girl sat on a gray wall, spilling plummy ancient words into a phone
Boxy English phrases peppered through, breaking her music
A story flowered in my mind as I passed; she spoke about
gold in the Arabian desert
a drawing, a globe, a bottle of dark wine
More finches swung past, students laughed
The air was unchanged
Surely someone would feel the altered weight; I paused,
But no one sang about the two left behind
No one prayed next to that false sky
I like your poem. Each time I read it, I see a painting in my mind. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteOoh! Maybe you'll make a painting!
ReplyDeleteI'm working on a sketch or two. I'll let you know.
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