On What Do My Sons’ Fortunes Depend?

Diane Martini Richard


Dark dead partridges lie draped
across a wooden table
near the entrance
of gallery 309.

On the far wall, Dutch fleets
call victory on rough seas;
and St. Anthony is still
fighting winged devils
in a cave.

But in the corner, you carry the room
golden Baroque boy, smirking
in a pink silk frock, a yellow
bullfinch high in one hand

to the black cloud
behind you.

It’s clear
your parents enjoy you
to excess.

Sometimes, at home,
I iron white pillowcases
in the dimly lit basement

or remove debris
from the rafters
where mice are nesting.

But here, I might fashion wings
such as the tiger moth’s
prone to damage
yet flexible enough for flight.



Diane Martini Richard’s poems have recently appeared in 45th Parallel, Four Chambers Press, Poetry City USA, The Scene & Heard Journal, Spillway, Dying Dahlia, and Main Street Rag. In addition to poetry, she is also working on a memoir based on letters from WWII, and various essays on beauty and nostalgia.