Gyroscope Review 16-3 | Page 58

I WAS BORN by Steve Klepetar an exile, in an inner room. My father the king declared me lost, my mother the queen bolted the door. Over the ocean I wailed my song. Air swelled with butterflies and bees searching for a flower’s nest. It was easy to be alone, easy to breathe in that iron boat. How long I waited for fragrant night and moon-shaped balloon. In the stars I made out serpentine patterns of my life, its uneasy contours and all the ways my words seemed out of place, the American way I said “dynasty” and “taste,” how trees bent sadly as I wandered by, distracted by mist and hair and glass. In my mouth, I tasted marbles and stones, the language of another land. Its weather nearly made me blind. In the rain I talked about crows, who knew my sorrow in the depths of black coats, and drummed rhythm in the tender bark of pines. Gyroscope Review - !48