58
PA.RTISilN REVIEW
vomited the nipple out, he cried in terror, and beat the mother with his
fists.
"What happened? What was he shouting for last night?" But
the mother could not speak:. She sat at the table, staring out at the trees
and the sudden shadows on .the tenement walls. She iooked out and saw
the earth stretching away to infinity, leagues of green earth weighted
with. nourishment. And she heard the sound of a million mouths crying
to be
fed.
LIGHT
My
father worked with wires
that felt the turbines hum,
and reaching backwards took:
spring freshets in his pliers–
lost snows, the violets numb,
drained into every brook–
he made of water light,
new task of opposite.
When weeds or wheat encyst
their hunger in his palm
and all the rains pour down
with silence to his wrist,
spring,
~hough
now a tomb,
his hands have always known–
handled and builded it
to towers bearing light.
to my father
MILLEN BRAND
