1. The field
These were the images of well-being—
a threshed field opened
to the sky,
a small red throne room
with its empty red throne—
the brightness
of the field
making me squint
and in the throne room,
a diagonal stripe of light
on the velvet ground;
so the view
must have been through a crack
in the door—
so I was there
in the field,
outside the hushed room,
though not bewildered—
2. House
Think of the boarded-up shed—
who’s inside,
seeing the bars of light,
the flies and dust
changing places.
The field dry,
the shed pulsing slightly
with consciousness.
You march over
and tear the boards
off the window.
You weren’t wrong;
it is a little girl.
She’s got on faded orange
bathing suit bottoms.
On top, nothing,
her torso stretched
over the loom
of her ribs.
She’s just posed
on her side,
staring into the middle distance—
You cry out.
She retracts her arms;
she starts to cry.
From nowhere,
a woman enters.
The girl buries her head
in her mother’s shoulder.
They walk across the field
and the woman looks back at you,
shaking her head.
For God’s sake,
she was just playing.
Crickets in the dry grass.
Was it a shed
or a bedroom window?
She looked out at you.
You looked back at her.
And you are crying
and kissing her wet face
and saying again and again,
I would never, I would never—