Sunday, April 13, 2008

A Little Tooth
by Thomas Lux

Your baby grows a tooth, then two,

and four, and five, then she wants some meat

directly from the bone. It's all



over: she'll learn some words, she'll fall

in love with cretins, dolts, a sweet

talker on his way to jail. And you,



your wife, get old, flyblown, and rue

nothing. You did, you loved, your feet

are sore. It's dusk. Your daughter's tall.

No comments: