Monday, June 04, 2012

Sale Pending

First line from a sonnet by Edna St. Vincent Millay

There was upon the sill a mark
painters had missed, the realtor not erased.
A sharpened point had grooved the wood, and dark
lead embedded. What careful hand had traced
this unread lesson? Left it for new buyers
to puzzle at? Did it record a child's
growth, inch by inch by foot? Were pliers
brought to pull a nail, then filed
away, job done, forgotten mark still left?
What untold story, clumsy hand or deft
was there implicit? No-one knows. The agent
brushed at it, as at dust. She joked "It's Cajun,
blackened, you know." The clients laughed, and kept
on disturbing dust where no broom had swept.

Collection available! Knocking from Inside

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