CAMELOT FANTASIES

A Change of Wind




By  Katia Kapovich   


On the eighth day he coined the word “alone”

and saw that it was as good as everything else.

A yellow school bus rattled down the lane,

a wind blew in a drainpipe, strong, mellifluous.


I brought two empty crates to the parking lot,

watched neighbors with briefcases and car keys.

At noon a mailman passed by where I sat

invisible, like a tree among trees.


Why, why, I asked. I wanted to know why,

but only scared a squirrel that dropped his acorn

when my voice broke silence unexpectedly—

a white noise in a wireless telephone.


My club soda went flat in the bottle. With a spit

of rain, a wind blew again from the lake.

I raised my index finger and touched it,

pleading, give me a break, give me a break.