NewPoetry

Erin Moure

 

Tomorrow I will write the work called “human cruelty”
wherein “cruelty” and “cherish” appear
in the same strophe

and trout for that matter

A pool in the hand where fish rest shaded
and the small child lifts one up

it is so patient it lets the girl do this

For what is an image does it shimmer
in heaven where the child E. has been banished forever
her small wrists beneath the fish’s fondest belly

the fish who is learning a beautiful patience
with all things

even cruelty
even with what looks like it could turn to cruelty

—heaven is dry and the fish
in the hands of the girl is rising—

A great wind and chime are hunkered over her

Sparrow, whiskyjack
Trout, armistice
Crimea, Debaltseve, the sands of Winnipeg

Please don’t send her away