Paradise

And all along I was white,
and straight, and male,
and middle-class. That was
experience, that meal
at the diner, that breath
of exhaust. The morning dew
was fresh, early to rise
in the mowing of shaggy
meadowlands. Again I
understood that shame
was all my own. A comb
run slowly through thickening
hair. A different century,
at the end or the beginning
of an era of human sadness.
Faceless, stateless. Armed
with knowledge new
to him, he set forth to apply it
widely, whether or not it was
knowledge new to others.
Hope was a help at that time.

Andy Stallings lives in Deerfield, MA, where he teaches English at Deerfield Academy. His second collection with Rescue Press, Paradise, will come out in 2018. He has four young children, and coaches cross country running.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s