Tuesday poem: At the coming of Spring by Kate Camp

At this time I am sensitive to creakings
sudden falling limbs and the breaking up of rivers.

I go into the streets wearing a false beard
and dressed in the style of an orthodox Jew
leave bread at roadsides.

Ah ha! You say, slapping your forehead theatrically
that is why hopeful birds follow you
and mice take your steps as their trail.

That is not the reason, but it will do for the likes of you.

From The Mirror of Simple Annihilated Souls (page 58) by Kate Camp
Published by Victoria University Press
Used with the permission of Victoria University Press

This poem has been posted as part of the Tuesday Poem scheme

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