At the bus stop, a boy making noises
like a man who never learned to leave such
nonsense behind; young woman turned,
lips pressed, one hand to hip, one
hand to God I do not know him.

Children walk in the street to shelter from the
sunlight; one ducks through the hedge to the track,
picks a rock, eyes the rolling stock;
his arm is small and far away.

You drive too close; your hand could shoot from
your unrolled window, grab my wrist, wring out
your pounding frustration at What He Has Done.

I roll on, legs of lead, heart of stone, gathering
no moss. My loss.

About Rosalind C Hughes

Rosalind C Hughes is a priest and author living near the shores of Lake Erie. After growing up in England and Wales, and living briefly in Singapore, she is now settled in Ohio. She serves an Episcopal church just outside Cleveland. Rosalind is the author of A Family Like Mine: Biblical Stories of Love, Loss, and Longing , and Whom Shall I Fear? Urgent Questions for Christians in an Age of Violence, both from Upper Room Books. She loves the lake, misses the ocean, and is finally coming to terms with snow.
This entry was posted in poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

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

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

Facebook photo

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

Connecting to %s