music singing to itself...

Frank Stanford

Hidden Water


A girl was in a wheelchair on her porch
And wasps were swarming in the cornice

She had just washed her hair
When she took it down she combed it

She could see
Just like I could

The one star under the rafter
Quivering like a knife in the creek

She was thin
And she made me think

Of music singing to itself
Like someone putting a dulcimer in a case

And walking off with a stranger
To lie down and drink in the dark

*

Some writers have the gift of the devastating image, of lines that the reader can’t escape. Stanford was one of them.

The ending of “Hidden Water” is powerful – a simile that is effective, reminding me of James Wright’s way with image and line.