Cindy Buchanan

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Pietá

            “the centre cannot hold” 
            —W. B. Yeats, “The Second Coming”

Two shapes. Shadows really. Dawn has not yet
opened her fingers. One figure sits erect,
cradles the other, asleep, half- reclined.
They face the bay, their features undefined.
Hips touch, but legs dangle, limbs ungrounded.
Nearby, a shopping cart, the dark blurred mound
of a backpack, one discarded shoe. Waves lap
matins. Walkers, runners, avert eyes, pass.

Do living sculptures merit a name?
What do we do with what we have made,
this urban art that should pierce the heart:
all these unnamed, mere numbers on charts.
In our hidden galleries, our senses
numb, our centers shift, blind to consequence.

Cindy Buchanan grew up in Alaska, graduated with a B. A. in English from Gonzaga University, and lives in Seattle, Washington with her husband. She studies poetry with Jeanine Walker and is a member of two poetry groups. Her work has been published in Cirque, ONE ART, Hole in the Head Review, The Inflectionist Review, and other journals. Her poetry has been nominated for Best of the Net. Her chapbook, Learning to Breathe, was published in 2023 (Finishing Line Press) and her full-length poetry collection, Hungry Ghosts, will be published by Kelsay Books in 2026. Find her at cindybuchanan0219@gmail.com