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Evening Falls
by Michelle Bonczek 

August 27, 2021 Contributed By: Michelle Bonczek Evory

Bird in a hand

 

“The main point was to eliminate the difference between what is seen from outside the window and what is seen from inside”—Rene Magritte

 

On one pane’s shard in the living room, the evening sun perfect as the evening sun

made artful in the window frame.  In our short-tempered house, the windows

never broke or swelled. Flesh did.

 

Another shard shaped like a boat sails across the floor of my childhood.

A floor my father crossed to smack me and my sister when we rolled our eyes.

A floor television remotes, cd covers, and telephones flew over like airplanes

 

when he didn’t want to stand up to reach us. In addition to the summer scene,

Rene Magritte painted one of winter, too. Mountains outside the window

take the shapes of peaks fractured yet rising from the dining room floor.

 

Half a lifetime later, my father’s window still does not break. It is like love’s

instinctual attachment, which, if it must, will form scar tissue over crack and fissure,

stretch skin to keep intact. The bird smack-confused after flying into the hard

 

reflection of what it thought was the world, drops to our earth. Dad cupped

the fragile fledgling and didn’t toss it to the sky. He warmed it

while his dinner cooled, until the bird was ready, two hours later, to push

 

its feathered weight up from a palm that had finally learned patience, and fly again.


MICHELLE BONCZEK EVORY is the author of The Ghosts of Lost Animals, winner of the 2018 Barry Spacks Poetry Prize from Gunpowder Press, three poetry chapbooks, and the Open SUNY Textbook Naming the Unnamable: An Approach to Poetry for New Generations. She mentors poets at The Poet’s Billow (thepoetsbillow.com).

Filed Under: Featured Content, Poetry Posted On: August 27, 2021

Further Reading

What Is Light? by John Sibley Williams

What is rain to us soaked to bone who could enter the warmest house but who linger unchained in this open field?             * What is faith to us sequestered in a windowless room- aglow in neon and lamps without shades and a gavel driven into a wooden table in a room without room?             […]

V. JOSHUA ADAMS’S RESPONSE TO “SOME DARKER BOUQUETS”

I agree with Kent Johnson when he suggests the following about the sociology of contemporary poetry reviewing: Reviewing tends to be done by poets, and poets use the mode of criticism, more often than not, as a form of ingratiation with their associates. As U.S. poetry (mainstream and post-avant) has become more tightly tethered to academic […]

Evening Falls
by Michelle Bonczek 

  “The main point was to eliminate the difference between what is seen from outside the window and what is seen from inside”—Rene Magritte   On one pane’s shard in the living room, the evening sun perfect as the evening sun made artful in the window frame.  In our short-tempered house, the windows never broke […]

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