Light rises from a white bird—pigeon
at the crusted edge of a roof, a boy
killed, window open to shifting surfaces,
the boy’s red shorts, white T shirt,
blood. Death written everywhere,
but the boy’s father hears the bearers
of voices, sees the realms of light.
Stone eats the body, wind cleans it.
The pigeon waits on the roof
high above dirty pavement, wings
angled to draw down fire from the skies.
Outside, a man washes the window.
He’s slung in a sling, safe
on a wobbling board, soapy water
tumbling down his arms,
the water revelation, his shadow
dropped to the sidewalk, simulacrum
played across moving limbs of trees.
Barbara Daniels’ book Rose Fever: Poems was published by WordTech Press and her chapbooks, Black Sails, Quinn & Marie, and Moon Kitchen by Casa de Cinco Hermanas Press. Her poetry has appeared in Prairie Schooner, WomenArts, Mid-American Review, The Literary Review, and many other journals. She received three Individual Artist Fellowships from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts.
