This poem is taken from PN Review 149, Volume 29 Number 3, January - February 2003.
Four PoemsAutumn Child
For Patrick
Autumn child
you would be born with the leaf-fall
the catch in the air
that tells the year's turn
tonight, a rag of cloud
blindfolding the face of the moon
am I leaving you
or moving to greet you?
August
I am inside August, waiting
under a dome of blue glass that traps the stilled air
hanging heat and scent of tar.
It was December, the far side of the year,
when I calculated months;
...
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