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 debut collection of poems, Steel, was chosen for the Cider Press Review Book Award and was released in January 2016. Her poems have appeared in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Shenandoah, Harvard Review,Michigan Quarterly Review, and Prairie Schooner among others. She lives in Burlington, Vermont where she works as a psychotherapist.
Latest posts by Alison Prine (see all)
- Blessing - May 2, 2016
- Lesbian Child - February 17, 2016
- Fortune Teller - November 11, 2013
