What did I want from her?
          I already know
          one half of life is to build,
          the other half for wind to dismantle.
 
          I know a person’s gait conveys
          the number of stones in their heart.
          I know history is being swallowed
          in the din of the television
          as the screens grow larger and larger
          until we will walk right into the picture.
 
          The fortune teller promised one day
          I would learn to stop breathing,
          one day I could close my eyes.
 
          Next time around I will be a city pigeon,
          iridescent as a pearl. I will spread
          out on the currents with my flock
          and scavenge along the cement.
          Please drop some crumbs for me.
 
 
 
 
 
ALISON PRINE’s poems have appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Harvard Review, Poet Lore, and Tar River Poetry among others. She lives in Burlington, Vermont where she works as a psychotherapist.