Translating Grandfather's House
Trees frame the courtyard
The shadow of a palomino,1
Right there on the second floor!”
Crossing her arms she moves on.
Memories once certain as rivets
Become confused as awakenings
In strange places and I question
The house, the horse, the wrens
Perched on the slate roof—
Tumbled from one hot Tuesday,
Installing a new weather vane;
(He broke a shin and two fingers).
Classmates finish drawings of New York City
Housing projects on Navy Street.
I draw one too, with wildgrass
Rising from sidewalk cracks like widows.
In big round letters I title it:
Beaming, the teacher scrawls
An A+ in the corner and tapes
It to the green blackboard.