Auction
by Kevin Blankenship

    She had such belongings to see--
    The lace tablecloth that spread like
    Powdered snow when swept;
    The couch that smelled always of berries,
    The plate that held a dancing maiden,
    Forever frozen in mid-spin,
    Although she too had seemed
    To slouch a little over the years.

    A cracked glass lamp
    To look through to see
    Things stitched in light,
    Like the frozen grass in winter;
    The hall rug that was first fire,
    Then ice,
    Then snakes, or spiders, or worms,
    Anything that would put an end
    To a careful boy's tread.

    And we thought the chairs,
    The tables, the books
    Must all translate far beyond the
    Prices we placed on them
    And far beyond the words
    Of men and women,
    A far cry from some frozen
    Interstice of time,
    Full of wisdom that would
    Move round the axle of the sky:

    But they didn't--
    And, in the end, we never knew
    Which was harder,
    The looking to buy
    Or the turning away.






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