NEW HOPE INTERNATIONAL REVIEW

These ten poems are dedicated to a young son who was killed in a road accident. Each poem has a plain and affecting lyricism. There is passionate grief here but it is expressed with control; and a dignity that it is extremely moving. These are necessarily well crafted pieces; this from DO YOU UNDERSTAND:

	Each Friday at the cemetery
	After spraying the stone,
	You turn and say,
	"Let's go, it's late,
	We've so much to do."

	Perhaps you don't see the pebbles
	As I do. Trickling, rolling down the sides,
	Looking for cracks. Chattering into the crate,
	Box, casket, coffin — — sarcophagus — as it
	Was called in olden times.

	It won't do to think of other things:
	Flowers netted among the green,
	Trees curtseying to the grave,
	Butterflies lost in the haze,
	The sun caught in porcelain blue.

	She thought he might die in the army,
	Burn in a tank,
	Prepared for the news.

	She sits on her wooden rocking chair
	In the kitchen,
	Burns her toast,
	Drinks coffee,
	Waits.

	She never dreamt of twisted metal
	On a country road.

	Perhaps I could understand
	Your final flight
	To different fields
	Where flowers flame and flicker,
	Stud the sky,

	If you could tell me
	That you dance among stars,
	Scatter petals on a butterfly cloud.