| r-kv-r-y quarterly spring 2006 poetry |
| If We Lose This Child by Anthony Robinson How pale are these stars which mark the hours And like planets wandering in the deep night These worlds of pain that never meet Still circle on in distant pathways: The cripple staggering on a nearby corner And families living under the highway bridge Oh, but his pain comes So slow, so close! In the shadow of the solar wheel In the mysterious cadence of moon In this death's unseemly market: Dark blood and white cloth |