The Park
In that oblivious, concentrated, fiercely fetal decontraction peculiar to
………. the lost,
a grimy derelict is flat out on a green bench by the sandbox, gazing
………. blankly at the children.
“Do you want to play with me?” a small boy asks another, his fine head
………. tilted deferentially.
but the other has a lovely fire truck so he doesn’t have answer and
………. emphatically doesn’t,
he just grinds his toy, its wheel immobilized with grit, along the low
………. stone wall.
The first child sinks forlornly down and lays his palms against the earth
………. like Buddha.
The ankles of the derelict are scabbed and swollen, torn with aching
………. varicose and cankers.
Who will come to us now? Who will solace us? Who will take us in
………. their healing hands?
by C.K. Williams
from Selected Poems
Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1994