Before Darkness (a golden shovel poem, with respect to William Carlos Williams)

 

I can’t say it was a surprise so

Why was there so much

I didn’t know? I guess it depends

On why I did it. The mystery upon

which I’ve based my life– a

a son, born in a gush of red.

Instead of grasping the wheel

I laid down in my barrow

And longed to be dead, eyes glazed,

Only to be forcibly resurrected with

The deluge, dislodged by the rain

Of his tears, that salty, bracing water

That I could not ignore, lying beside

him in my lonely bed, the

little body, writhing, white

No sleep before darkness, day broken by the cries of chickens.

 

NOTE In case you’re wondering what a “golden shovel poem” is: http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/golden-shovel-poetic-form. My inspiration was WC Williams’ famous poem

 

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.