Downward Spell

Now comes the burning—the blowing season down
Now comes penny-colored change and a morning trek to the train
Now comes a makeshift memorial for the dead
The ground is sweet with dog shit and wine
And here the votives smoke—and here the flowers nod
I left my waking child behind
Now comes a troubled train shrugging from the terminus
Now comes the iron tongue of a bridge—the wind-paddled river
The waves are green, the swells are high
Up here the bridge is mobbed, down there the shallow water wide
I left my rising child behind

Jimmie Cumbie received his MFA in Poetry from Bennington College. His poems have appeared recently in Spoon River Poetry Review, CavanKerry Press, Swink, Map Literary, Structo and the anthology, The Sonnets: Translating & Rewriting Shakespeare. He lives in Chicago, where he has been involved in Chicago's rich theater scene, having had his plays produced at A Red Orchid, Stage Left, Bailiwick, Voltaire and various regional festivals.

Boxcar Poetry Review - ISSN 1931-1761