His
homework late
as he
pulls the assignmentout of his pocket -- and flattens paper
creased from a long stay in denim
Overlooking the frayed margins
and ink slurred from a water spill,
I begin to read, sense -
scraping our tent
In the stream, a girl washes clothes
where willow reeds
stand ragged, hiding what lies
beyond.He writes through the young eyes
of a soldier hunched in loneliness
scribbling thoughts
on hemp cloth that’s torn and stained.
His first draft
Has such an authentic look -- I wonder
If I should mock his intent
or praise a scene
from Thomas Quinn’s life
dated 1812
and ending with ---
Sleepless and cold, we could feel
an Autumn night
slowly loading her hours
into dawn.
No comments:
Post a Comment