Katherine Burton
Brookline 10:47 pm

To what do I owe this ephemeral pleasure?
A moment of solitude and grace.
Eyes are lifted. Wide. Round.
Lashes graze lids.
I feel innocent again.
Green spheres reflect gray clapboards
And crystalline vestibules
Gold leaves litter the street.
I am mighty as I conquer the labyrinth
Block by Block
Recalling tree-houses and forts and
Falling in turbid waters when the toy boat
Sails just out of reach,
And I stand here consuming the victuals of
Succulent freedom
With seared taste buds.

Back to Issue 2, 1999