All the way north on the train the sun
followed me followed me without moving
still the sun of that other morning
when we had gone over Come on over
men at the screen door said to my father
You have to see this it’s an ape bring
the little boy bring the boy along
so he brought me along to the field
of dry grass hissing behind the houses
in the heat that morning and there was
nothing else back there but the empty day
above the grass waving as far away
as I could see and the sight burned my eyes
white birds were flying off beyond us
and a raised floor of boards like a house
with no house on it part way out there
was shining by itself a color
of shadow and the voices of the men
were smaller in the field as we walked on
something was standing out there on the floor
the men kept saying Come on over
it’s on a chain and my father said
to me Don’t get too close I saw it was
staring down at each of our faces
one after the other as though it might
catch sight of something in one of them
that it remembered I stood watching its eyes
as they turned away from each of us
