Mark Turbyfill

From “Voluntaries”

I ONLY laughed,

As at a gauche mistake,

When I learned we had paid

With innocent counterfeit—

That such carnival, confetti,

Festival of flamingo fun,

We had danced for nothing spent:

So much brightness

All out of nothing!

But when I learned of my awkwardness—

Mistaking the denomination, color, design

Of a little word you gave me!—

And of the bright shapes of dreams

Germinated in my heart

All out of nothing,

I could not laugh any more;

For there was a sharp severing of slender unseen roots,

And that fruit which they bore

Fell dangling and bruised

From the tendrils and the vine.