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




David Hornibrook lives and works in the Detroit area where he has been writing for the past eight years.








                                    

 

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