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.