The Day Winds Up the Opposite by August Wilson
Hearing her disembodied voice wash over me,
A cascade of coin and blessing,
With the delicious sounds of her waking
I thought today might be a day of blazing sun
With her hair a forest of red birds announcing themselves with song & surety
That each whisper of wind moved to mute song
& singing make a world of silence.
And then I remembered the warning
Issued by my old, tired, bedazzled heart:
The space between a man’s hand
& a woman’s hair
are filled with many passages
of tremor and trust.
This poem was selected by Lesley W. (Head of Adult Services)