Geraldine Connolly
Blue Bridge
Praise the good-tempered summer And the red cardinal That jumps Like a hot coal off the track. Praise the heavy leaves, Heroines of green, frosted With silver. Praise the litter Of torn paper, mulch
New Territory
Sent off to boarding school At twelve, with a pair of oxfords, A pair of patents, my sterling Silver christening rosary And two dozen name tags stitched Like drops of blood onto the collars
The Summer I Was Sixteen
The turquoise pool rose up to meet us, Its slide a silver afterthought down which We plunged, screaming, into a mirage of bubbles. We did not exist beyond the gaze of a boy. Shaking