Tuesday, March 10, 2009

The Conjurer's Son by Diane Unterweger

The Conjurer's Son
by Diane Unterweger

I Crystal Box

He touches me and I see
through the dark. This is
where secrets hide. Nights are
ether, a loose web, my body
wired to air. Firebird,
he whispers. I shatter
the sky with my red glass lungs.

II Neptune's Basin

Stage light shapes his face,
but pride is constant hunger.
Mornings frighten me. He bathes
my eyes, binds them with cotton,
asks me what I see. The truth,
of course, is nothing. I tell him,
water in a white bowl.

III Second Sight

What my father dreams, twists
my nerves to tinder. I know
the words by heart. He is
the double flame of my every
divisible cell. I am the mirror
pinned to his sleeve.

1 comment:

A. A. Veitch said...

The poem "The Conjurer's Son" is of a reasonable length and sweet stitched together with the thread of enlightenment and literary entertainment. Thanks for the interesting read.