WHERE CREDIT IS DUE

WHERE CREDIT IS DUE


At oblique angles to the rain,
the blinds divide the sky into sectors.
Below an American flag,
a single crutch on the carpet,
gloves, a knapsack, the hat, empty of thought.

The clock pushes time westward in increments of one.
We are all one people proclaims a poster.
A student gathers endless space in his eyes.
The alarm in my mind is made of small golden chains.
Filing cabinets achieve another kind of order.

Sometimes it seems there's too many hands on the world.
Whose job is it to make the sun rise?
Asleep in winter, the fan no longer severs
the air, offering it some chance of rest.
The rooster gives credit where credit is due.


2/92