Yusef Komunyakaa(b. 1947)
Sunday Afternoons
They'd latch the screendoors
& pull Venetian blinds,
Telling us not to leave the yard.
But we always got lost
Among mayhaw 0 & crabapple.berry tree
J u i c e spilled from our mouths,
& soon we were drunk & brave
As birds diving through saw vines.saw palmetto
E a c h nest held three or four
Speckled eggs, blue as rage.
W h e r e did we learn to be unkind,
There in the power of holding each egg
While watching dogs in J u n e
Dust & heat, or when we followed
T h e hawk's slow, deliberate arc
In the yard, we heard cries
F u s e d with gospel on the radio,
L o u d as shattered glass
In a Saturday-night a r g u m e n t
About trust & money.
We were born between Oh Yeah
& Goddammit. I knew life
Began where I stood in the dark,
Looking out into the light,
& that sometimes I could see
Everything through nothing.
The backyard trees breathed
Like a man running from himself
As my brothers backed away
From the screendoor. I knew
If I held my right hand above my eyes
Like a gambler's visor, I could see
How their bedroom door halved
The dresser mirror like a moon
Held prisoner in the house.
JANE SHRE
b. 1947