Two Poems by Brian Dawson

 
 

Sixteen

How much have we lost
in the county hospital?
The chubby baby wears
a San Francisco Giants hat
in the picture after the World Series.
A small casket fills the foyer,
laps of roses round the parade path.
We have so many reasons to cheer.

 
 


Forty

You can make anything into art.
Paintbrush dances black night over.
How could I know she would bloom?
The little girls sing something in the language
of our grandmothers. Henry watches women
in the grocery store thumbing cucumbers
and wonders – what if?

 
 


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