Poetry

By Diana Babineau ’14

Volume XXXV, Issue 4, May 10, 2013

 

Hearing shouts and tears

rising and falling above

her, a child takes their

 

shoes—one hers, one his—and ties

a tight knot, lacing the two

 

together, dragging

one across the carpet so

the other follows

 

—resistant—stumbling—stubborn—

to the furthest corner from

 

the front door, away

from the night that swallows their

kitchen window’s glow;

 

she hides them, hoping to keep

the two from coming undone.