The Spirit of Things

I never had children
of my own, but to show
how much I would love them
I carried four stones
from the river bank.
I chose round,
smooth ones—each still
warm and heavy enough
to lift with both hands.
I placed them gently
in a baby carriage
and pushed them to town,
took them to a grand
restaurant. I set each rock
on an empty chair
at the circular table
and sat with them, ordered
food for all of us.
I ate my meal
very slowly.
They did not touch
what was laid before them.
The waiter asked,
Was everything all right?
Yes, I said.
They are not hungry
and I understand
that I must pay
for everything.

 

Poems by Kathleen Lynch: