The Innisfree Poetry Journal
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
a little Autumn rain.
Oh beautiful Wu, a simple mind unfolded
in lovely form
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