children
by Lucille Clifton


they are right, the poet mother
carries her wolf in her heart,
wailing at pain yet suckling it like
romulus and remus.  this now.
how will I forgive myself
for trying to bear the weight of this
and trying to bear the weight also
of writing the poem
about this?


"They looked as if they would ring as if tapped with a stick.  The puddles rang.  The water rang."



















Montreal, 2015
with these guys
Pentax k1000/ kodak 400

#1 by Christie
#2, 6 and 15 by Hil














Film.
May and June 2015