Wednesday, April 25, 2007

comments welcome!!!!!!

Aubade in Queens: A Transfer

the sky, a cabinet polished,
painted, then sanded again
bluish grey all the way down
where everything melts into
lemon sherbert yellow

the families on the 7
sway and fuss on the curves
gather the growing light around them
loudspeaker static over seagulls‘ shriek:
Queensboro Plaza

doors open, mothers hum into the busy air,
singing and scattering, each with her
own peculiar tune; Farsi, Spanish, Creole,
Korean, Greek

black winter coats burst at the zippers
reveal red and gold robes
tucked flannel shirts
tiny pink tees with ponies

grab my hand say one hundred mothers
to a hundred and fifty children

they tighten back packs
smooth down sly cowlicks
turn toward the innumerable questions
of tiny upturned faces --
pulling the light into their palms
they step into the trains again


Pamela said...

I really like this--maybe cut the sway and fuss on the curves so more of the emphasis is on the light as it moves through the stanzas.

Congratulations on your publication.

Christine said...

Thanks and welcom Pamela! Yeah, I was thinking that the beginning was a little too much.

Valerie Loveland said...

I agree with Pamela. I really like the images in this, and I thought the second to last stanza was great.

Christine said...

Thanks, Val. Good point.

Joseph Gallo said...

A lovely portrait of endurance in the midst of endless transition.