You were still a stranger
to me then,
when I longed to figure out
your secrets, if you had any,
before we fell in love
and learned how to solve each other’s problems.
Once I read a story about the “Wild Boy of Aveyon,”
and you reminded me of that poor wolf child, a creature
urged on by hunger, digging for roots and bulbs in the fields.
A wandering transcendence.
When did our hiding places vanish? The places where we surprise each other,
wiped out by the monsoon bringing waters.
George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. John Fisher College, and 3:16 Journal. George’s blogs, essays and letters have appeared in USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, The Atlantic, Havana Times, South China Morning Post, The Buffalo News, and more.
See all his poems on Tea House here.
