WEBVTT

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"The Drowned Children."

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You see, they have no
judgment, so it is natural

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that they should drown.

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First the ice taking them
in, and then, all winter,

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their wool scarves
floating behind them

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as they sink until at
last, they are quiet.

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And the pond lifts them
in its manifold dark arms.

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But death must come to
them differently, so close

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to the beginning.

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As though they had always
been blind and weightless.

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Therefore the rest
is dreamed, the lamp,

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the good white
cloth that covered

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the table, their bodies.

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And yet, they hear the
names they used like lures,

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slipping over the pond--

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what are you waiting for,
come home, come home,

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lost in the waters,
blue and permanent.

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