Golden Shovel with a line from Jason Scheiderman’s Elegy VIII

by Sean Thomas Dougherty

I love the bright umbrellas at bus stops, I
Adore the exact yellow of old school taxis. I hate

The way people never say hello, those
Noses stuck to phones like young poets.

Instead, I love the young who eat Italian ices, who
Kiss each other with sticky faces. I love a tell

Like in poker we catch sight of in life we say you
Revealed your heart’s intentions. I cannot say that

It is going to rain today. I love our daughters, they
Have grown so strong like the oak branches: I love

How tender men can be, & how strong women can grow, but
In the dark I love how your body finds mine never

Will we douse the light. Hands together you make
A votive candle. The small flame you tender, how slowly it

Burns the way a smoldering fire can clear
The brush controlled. I love the ash of address, for whom

Do I write this letter? For you & the old Russian women they
Walk slowly step by step, back stooped, arms locked as if in love.


SEAN THOMAS DOUGHERTY is the author of twenty books. His poetry collections include Death Prefers the Minor Keys (BOA Editions, 2023); The Second O of Sorrow (BOA Editions, 2018); All You Ask for Is Longing: Poems 1994–2014 (BOA Editions, 2014); Sasha Sings the Laundry on the Line (BOA Editions, 2010); and Broken Hallelujahs (BOA Editions, 2007). Dougherty lives in Erie, Pennsylvania.