Convalescence

by Antonia Clark
The Waters
Second Place, October 2008
Judged by Hélène Cardona and John Fitzgerald


She lures him back by naming what he loves —
constellations, rivers — repeating days and dates,
drawing the drapes to make an island.

One year, she let him keep her from catching
trains. In another, she gave up seasides, long ago
stored her silk kimono away on a high shelf.

A long whistle wails from the trestle
but there is no place here to stop.


We loved the poetry and atmosphere evoked. This poem beautifully tells a story and creates a whole world in few words. The last image of the wailing of the train is a haunting one. --Hélène Cardona and John Fitzgerald