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  • Vigil
  • Jaydn DeWald (bio)

after Radmila Lazić

Spring belated, and I am much too oldTo see, in the black pool, our daughterHolding her naked doll. Fragile leavesIn her unspooling hair. Algae-globbed—Her lidless eyes—beneath the fragrantWater lilies.

                     I am rocking on the porch;My wife, in the garden, examining herTulips, cornflowers, calla lilies, plums—As if she should never again feel them.Our daughter,

                           whose skin is phosphor,In whose mouth the red killifish swim—Here is a willow grows aslant a brook.Here you are, before your tender heartCould not go on: squatting in the poolOf your yellow Easter dress.

                                                   Giggling—Therefore I am standing in our kitchen,Young again, dipping hardboiled eggsInto little bowls of dye. Twilight ZoneOn the television. Shadows on the sun-Flowerwallpaper.

                               And I open my eyes—I am rocking on the porch. The gardenLaddered with light; my wife kneelingIn the black plums, the tarpaper leaves,The matted wigs of grass. I cannot seeOur daughter, beneath the white cloudFloating across the pool.

                                               Look at these,My hands, on the good curved armrest—I can reach the dark center of the earth;I cannot even pull my own daughter ashore. [End Page 3]

Jaydn DeWald

Jaydn DeWald, an MFA candidate at Pacific University, currently lives with his wife in San Francisco, CA, where he writes, plays bass for the DeWald/Taylor Quintet, and serves as an associate poetry editor for Silk Road. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Bellevue Literary Review, Columbia Poetry Review, New York Quarterly, West Branch, Witness, and others.

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