Today's poem is by Nathan Parker
Beloved, now we are children of God . . .
I John 3:2
This morning a child offered me water
& a little bit of bread. Light buried the
shed in which I have hidden my whole
life & I heard, very softly, a new name.
It happens every morning. Once upon
a time I bustled for bread behind thin
glass in a fashionable section of a port
city whose bloody laundry was always
being shipped to a secret sea. I am still
learning to sleep without shame: in my
dreams bits of children float to heaven,
while a lost world chants my old name.
Copyright © 2009 Nathan Parker All rights reserved
from Colorado Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
Support Verse Daily
Sponsor Verse Daily!
Web Monthly Features
About Verse Daily
Submit to Verse Daily
Publications Noted & Received
Copyright © 2002-2009 Verse Daily
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2002-2009 Verse Daily All Rights Reserved