And when they sat down in the morning to bowls of cold cereal, each in turn would notice the blades of a ceiling fan spinning at the bottom of their spoons, small enough to swallow, yet no one ever mentioned it, neither looking up nor into each other's eyes for fear of feeding the hunger that held them there. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OWL AGAINST ROBIN by SIDNEY LANIER WITH CHAOS IN EACH KISS by TIMOTHY LIU FREE FANTASIA ON JAPANESE THEMES by AMY LOWELL THE SLAVE TRADE: VIEW FROM THE MIDDLE PASSAGE by CLARENCE MAJOR THE PLACE OF PEACE by EDWIN MARKHAM DOMESDAY BOOK: GEORGE JOSLIN ON LA MENKEN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |