Leaving My Place on the River (Todd Turner)

Posted on June 25, 2013 by in Heightened Talk

Boy in window - croppedStanding at the window,

looking out onto the river for the last time,

I turn my thoughts to a field where I stood as a child.

The wind is blowing.

And under a row of cypresses

there is a grave at the edge of the field.

It bears the marking of a small cross

and a name that I cannot read –

I hear the slow gears of pulleys

unchain in me.