sticks and stones
​
sticks and stones may break
but names will cut more deeply
carving out whole worlds
that stain the heart’s imagining
desert wildflowers awaiting the rains
bright painted bird
tail feathers flash in the sun
now mobbed by clouds
dark-winged bodies not allowing
space for life’s swirling wonder
the poster boy sags
heavy on callipers and crutches
crying out for help
crying out against his fate
sowing seeds that will never bloom
damaged, broken against
life’s rosy expectation – being
whole, being normal
I suck down poor crippled me
so become poor crippled me
waves break on the beach
churning quiet sands foaming white
baby turtles headlong
dash to the ocean’s safe embrace
pitiless gulls hover screaming death
​
​
Paul Levy
published in Atlas Poetica 29