A Poem by Anon ymous
She watches
a piece of the sky fall to earth.
It’s picked up by a bird.
She feels what a warm breeze might feel like
if she were outside.
if she were in her sundress,
if it were a day in June.
A child pulls a red wagon across the street.
Desire is a memory,
the horizon a crooked line.
The child’s mother runs into the street
takes her hand, leads her back
to the house.
There is a flash of silver in the bird’s beak
as she lands in the nest.
The wagon tips.
The child begins to cry.
