Sunday Poem

Easter, when doubt becomes hope,
because all hope is of doubt, I think.
……………. —Roshi Bob

my dream about the poet
.
a man
I think it is a man.
I think he’s holding wood.
he carves.
he is making a world
he says
as his fingers cut citizens
trees and things
which he perceives to be a world
but someone says that is
only a poem.
he laughs.
I think he is laughing.
.

by Lucille Clifton
from To Read a Poem
Edited by Donald Hall
Harcourt Brace, 1992