Central Park, Carousel
June already, it's your birth month, nine months since the towers fell. I set olive twigs in my hair torn from a tree in Central Park, I ride a painted horse, its mane a sullen wonder. You are behind me on a lilting mare. You whisper--What of happiness? Dukham, Federico. Smoke fills my eyes. Young, I was raised to a sorrow song short fires and stubble on a monsoon coast. The leaves in your cap are very green. The eyes of your mare never close. Somewhere you wrote: Despedida. If I die leave the balcony open!
Meena Alexander was born in Allahabad, India, in 1951. Her poetry collections include Atmospheric Embroidery (TriQuarterly Books, 2018).
Date Published: 2004-01-01
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/central-park-carousel