width=61 height=87> Voracious Verses


Patrick Carrington
featured poet, 2006

Learning History in Nursery School

For a month, rain slid down on silk ropes 
like a spider was wrapping us 
in a sad and sturdy home. On the way 
to pre-school my son asked if we 
might have to hold umbrellas forever. 
Through the window, I watched him build 
a day of his own with fingerpaints. 
He didn’t repeat the world’s mistakes. 
He made the sun yellow, the sky as blue 
as a new boy. He was giving
the stick figures smiles and beach balls 
just as a rainbow climbed into the mist
over the huge clock on city hall. 
It was as blurry as puddled gasoline. 
The sky was copying him, siphoning 
off the street some long forgotten oils.
(first appeared in Rattle)

© 2007 Patrick Carrington

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