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Slow Children at Play

All the quick children have gone inside, called
by their mothers to hurry-up-wash-your-hands
honey-dinner’s-getting-cold, just-wait-till-your-father-gets-home-
and only the slow children out on the lawns, marking off
paths between fireflies, making soft little sounds with their mouths,
ohs, that glow and go out and glow. And their slow mothers flickering,
pale in the dusk, watching them turn in the gentle air, watching them
twirling, their arms spread wide, thinking, These are my children, 
thinking, Where is their dinner? Where has their father gone?

—Cecilia Woloch

From Late, 2004
BOA Editions Ltd.

Copyright 2004 Cecilia Woloch.
All rights reserved.

Reprinted by permission of BOA Editions Ltd. Copyright 2004 by Cecilia Woloch. For further permissions information, contact BOA Editions Ltd., c/o The Permissions Company, 47 Seneca Road, Mount Pocono, PA 18344, www.boaeditions.org.

Poetry 180

About the Poet

Cecilia Woloch (1956- ) is the author of six poetry collections, as well as a chapbook and a novel, Sur la Route (Quale Press, 2015). Born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and raised in rural Kentucky, poet Cecilia Woloch earned a BA at Transylvania University and an MFA at Antioch University, Los Angeles.

Learn more about Cecilia Woloch at The Poetry Foundation.