Richard Weaver

Boy with Crooked Feet

It was thought
he would not follow
the sun’s path
out of mischief.
For weeks he rose
at first light
to walk east.
At midday he’d turn
and walk west,
always arriving by dusk
at the fire. He did this
until his feet
became stones
and distances
improbable.
Softened cypress bark
was tied
to his feet,
and the river
brought to him
so that he might
walk with it
and not forget.
Soon his feet
were healed.
Turned inward.
To this day
he walks
birdlike.

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Richard Weaver is the writer-in-residence at the James Joyce Pub in Baltimore. Other pubs: conjunctions, Southern Quarterly, Birmingham Arts Journal, Coachella Review, FRIGG, Hollins Critic, Atlanta Review, Dead Mule, Vanderbilt Poetry Review, and New Orleans Review. He’s the author of The Stars Undone (Duende Press, 1992), and wrote the libretto for a symphony, Of Sea and Stars (2005). He was one of the founders of the Black Warrior Review and its Poetry Editor for the first four years. Recently, his 204th prose poem was accepted since he began writing them in 2016. (Only 353 remain available as of today).

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