That little chick on the sidewalk
on the pink
stone steps
whose gravel glistened

That little boy who brought it by
brought it to me
in the cup
of his hands

where he held it
untrembling

A living thing
butter-yellow ashes

a living thing

Tiny body
(some body's) being
felt

softer than soft as

the collection of all erasures

Butter-yellow ash-heap / featherbed
breathing inside his hands

dandelion pillow with two puny legs
twig-feet

One little body giving light
a cup of light
of tenderness waking

So much work already done











From Poetry Northwest, Fall 2006/Winter 2007. Copyright University of Washington. Used with Permission.