The Innisfree Poetry Journal

www.innisfreepoetry.org

by David Hornibrook

THE CHINESE FARMER SELLS HIS ROBOTS

                        Later, I began to call them my sons

Made by man in man's image a second hand

            image of God like the sun

glancing off polished sheet metal.

"I didn't sleep for days after selling the child"

Born of gears inside

a daydream of that "marvelous human motion"

sweetly green curvatures of wire.

Freshly oiled cogs turning

day to twilight delicately

the way a hair bends.

He could bend and bow

Harvest moon,

a little Autumn rain.

Oh beautiful Wu, a simple mind unfolded

            in lovely form