On Seeing Cynthia Again
Ah, Cynthia it is! (“Was” I should say.
“Was” it is.) Cynthia, Cynthia!
How have you been? (How she has, alas,
Is seen. “Has-been” I should say.)
Still beautiful? Still beautiful.
(Let me describe her. Think of a horse.
That’s Cynthia. Horse? No, worse.)
Cynthia, I have thought of you, and I
Have thought of what could have become of you.
(What has become of her? I would say
Nothing has. Nothing, of course,
Becomes her.) Remember, Cynthia,
Remember the times of old?
(She cannot place “of old.”) I know,
Cynthia, yes, you look as young as young can be!
A baby?! You lucky, lucky, lucky—
(Having a baby’s (the most to say)
Commonplace as day). I certainly shall
Have to come and see it.
Where do you stay? (Well wherever,
May she be kept there and off
The thoroughfare.) Cynthia, you look
As you did once by St. Vincent’s brook.
You have not changed at all.
How is matrimony? Of course.
Milk and honey.
Cynthia, it has been exquisite seeing you.
Give my few friends my love
(That is if I can send enough.)
Goodbye. Don’t let the baby
Catch anything and die.
[Objects, 1961]
Copyright Credit: Russell Atkins, "On Seeing Cynthia Again" from World’d Too Much: The Selected Poetry of Russell Atkins, edited by Kevin Prufer and Robert E. McDonough. Copyright © 2019 by Russell Atkins. Reprinted by permission of Cleveland State University Poetry Center.
Source: World’d Too Much: The Selected Poetry of Russell Atkins, edited by Kevin Prufer and Robert E. McDonough (Cleveland State University Poetry Center, 2019)