I thought my lover said a foolish thing
That we would not be parted when we part
And strangers’ songs the mockingbirds still sing
But each night in my dream she eats my heart
My lover spoke first loud to the skittish day
Still blushing after his departed guest
And startled airless blood across his chest
The mockingbirds spoke back from the blued sky
And then my lover spoke to the unmown grass
Near wild in the yard its white hair fled as smoke
Nor would her image stay in the sun-flushed glass
The voice of the mockingbird on the sill broke
As though the bird had heard me in the kitchen
Half-singing as I scrubbed clumped grains from a bowl
The mockingbird sings Who that hears the owl
And like no man will use his voice to listen
Shane McCrae
Shane McCrae is the author of several books of poetry, including In the Language of My Captor, which was a finalist for the National Book Award, the Los Angeles Times Book Prize, and the William Carlos Williams Award; Sometimes I Never Suffered, shortlisted for the T.S. Eliot Prize; and his most recent collection, Cain Named the Animal. McCrae is the recipient of a Whiting Award, a National Endowment for the Arts Literature Fellowship, a Lannan Literary Award, and a Guggenheim Fellowship. He teaches at Columbia University and lives in New York City.