1995, 32 pages
|
PAUL-VICTOR WINTERS |
| Muscle & Bone | |
|
1995, 32 pages |
|
"On
the page, the poems are lean and plainly spoken, but they are alive with
surprises and bright maneuvers. The result is a fine combination of deftness
of craft and ease of expression."
|
First Poem after My Mother's Death
The glass bowl on the cluttered
kitchen
table is so large, we could fit both
our hearts in it, my father and I. We could
stuff the whole world in
there, maybe.
I thought, perhaps, we'd fill it
with yellow daffodils, but we've had enough
of flowers. There are things
we should put in the bowl but do not.
Instead, we open all the pill
bottles we can find throughout
the house
and pour hundreds of pills into the bowl,
almost filling it. We are so happy to empty
them, we toss the lids
over our shoulders
and drop the empty bottles to our feet.
There is a pill for everything, so many
shapes and sizes, such
amazing color.
There is an entire landscape in our bowl, sky
and clouds and earth and water. The pills
are like tiny flower blossoms
and we hate them.
We have done this together. I have always
wanted to do this. We have a large
bowl full of pills and,
for all the love
we've ever known, can't even imagine
what to do with it.