Alone, like a feather in the air,
An occasional sadness the weather knows
Comes to earth as a bend in the road.
The winter is at its most instructive
As other sadnesses fall
Across the democracy of objects.
Those that aren't shy
Introduce themselves—
Fool's Errand, Clowns of Anguish—
The Equitation of Beautiful Young Girls
Is an exemplary sadness,
As is The Whale's Parasol.
I want to part company
With linear extent,
Congenital heartbreak,
Where the raven goes and snow comes from.
I want distance washed clean,
Unencumbered by facts;
The red cactus flower
To slip into my shirt at dusk
And be the heart's boat.
I want Clowns of Anguish to raise the sail,
And a white handkerchief
Waving from shore.
-James Galvin
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