Rita Dove - Thomas and Beulah (1986)

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The house, shut up like a pocket watch,
those tight hearts breathing inside —
she could never invent them.

Rita Dove

Twelve years to the day
he puts the blue worry bead into his mouth.
The trick is to swallow your good luck, too.
Last words to a daughter...
and a wink to remember him by.

Rita Dove

The hat on the table
in the dining room
is no pet trained
to sit still. Three
pearl-tipped spears and Beulah
maneuvering her shadow
to the floor. The hat
is cold. The hat
wants more.

Rita Dove