Stephen was born
on the First of July
rosy of cheek
and a brightness of eye
all heart and lung
and a breath and a cry
glad to arrive
maybe sad
to have parted
Ten little fingers
and ten little toes
two eyes and ears
and a delicate nose
though with ten brothers
and sisters and those
soon on the way
he was erelong
forsaken
Always the youngest
not counting the twins
threadbares and hand-me-down
patches and pins
asking for little
he cowers and grins
just for a smile
or a pat
on his shoulder
Last to a supper
of gristle and crumb
teasing a hunger
and cold that benumb
left to his own
and his dreams to succumb
into a world
of his hopes
and his demons
Sensing the light
within story and song
finding the words
where the meanings belong
hiding in books
where he read before long
learning to fly
above paper
and letters
Caught by his father
asleep on the page
startled and frightened
he woke to his rage
told by the fist
boys don't read at your age
told by the cane
you're no better
than others
Still by the light
of a clandestine flame
Stephen would travel
the worlds he became
seeing no crime
in his lettery game
tracing its ink
and its papery
byways
High over mountains
and oceans he flew
deep within jungles
and deserts he grew
racing by night
for the kingdom he knew
spreading his wings
and his heart
and his hunger
One tiny pencil
an inch maybe two
that and some yellowy
paper would do
home to the words
where his dream would shine through
home to the song
of his soul
and his rising
Sam was his brother
and older by four
Sam was a monger
in secrets and more
he brought the father
one night to the door
showing with pride
what a crime
he'd uncovered
Damn you I've told you
you'll come to no good
Damn you I'll make you
behave like you should
father was shaking
with rage where he stood
breaking his pencil
then breaking
his fingers
Writhing he moaned
in his fingery pain
black blue and bleeding
they won't write again
pleading for help
though he whispered in vain
no one would light up
his tormented
darkness
Beggar boy beggar boy
lumps for his hands
Stephen now cowers
and grins where he stands
cap on the ground
for the coin as it lands
ringing the news
he may yet have
his supper
Beggar man beggar man
lumps for his hands
Stephen still cowers
and grins where he stands
cap on the ground
for a coin as it lands
telling anew
he may yet have
his supper
Beggar man dreamer
grown into a tree
roots in the ground
where his feet used to be
willowy branches
forgiving and free
touching the sky
with his heart
and his hunger
Stephen still travels
a kingdom of dream
of ocean and valley
of forest and stream
closing his eyes
he can sense every gleam
nurturing all
into memorized
phrases
Moment by moment
he adds to his song
sentence by sentence
he guides it along
whisper by whisper
he will before long
come to the gate
he has hungered
and prayed for
Stephen would die
on a cold winter's day
all knots and bark
on his bed where he lay
no one to hold him
or beg him to stay
no one to see
he was glad
to have parted
