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ALMITRA DAVID<br />
The guard has more than one head,<br />
and the gods have finished<br />
with the starry fan of the peacock’s tail.<br />
4<br />
You stand by day, sorrow exposed,<br />
that little by little<br />
it might be lessened,<br />
that the gods might take pity,<br />
that at least the air<br />
might consume an edge of it,<br />
but by night it is restored<br />
and you awaken,<br />
grief whole and intact to begin again.<br />
You call to me as I have heard you<br />
call to the owls,<br />
heard them answer<br />
as though they knew<br />
the part of you<br />
that lives with them.<br />
I am not an oracle; I read in your eyes<br />
only what you allow to appear;<br />
your guarded fear will remain so,<br />
and the grief you have painted rose<br />
for your children will continue to be<br />
mistaken for the sunrise.<br />
5<br />
You want to talk of dreams,<br />
a clear day, river over stones<br />
wild grass, narcissus.<br />
15 <strong>Beloit</strong> <strong>Poetry</strong> <strong>Journal</strong> Fall 2002
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