To put away—both child and murderer—
The toys we played with just a month ago,
That wisdom come, and make our moving sure,
Began our exile with our lust to grow.
(Remembering a train I tore apart,
Because it knew my heart.)
We move and move, but only love the lost,
Perversity our master to the bone;
We search our minds for childhood, and are tossed
By fever to rebuild a child unknown.
—Donald Hall, from “Exile”
Photograph Credit Jasper James

To put away—both child and murderer—

The toys we played with just a month ago,

That wisdom come, and make our moving sure,

Began our exile with our lust to grow.

(Remembering a train I tore apart,

Because it knew my heart.)

We move and move, but only love the lost,

Perversity our master to the bone;

We search our minds for childhood, and are tossed

By fever to rebuild a child unknown.

Donald Hall, from “Exile”

Photograph Credit Jasper James

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