As a Hillsborough Child I Never could Find
Lived before 1929 and written c.1961 by Barbara Gordon Paine
As a Hillsborough child I never could find
The pierced arrow of our car
The wings of hollied hawks
The sigh-presses of trees
The feet of stepping stones
The spools of winding walks;
Nor did I hear the crash
Hillsborough, south of San Francisco, is one of the richest towns in America--nothing but mansions.
This is from Eidolon, 1962, by Barbara Gordon Paine. She knew and was influenced by such poets as Karl Shapiro and Kenneth Patchen (her shape-poem protesting the letter Q is comically Patchenesque). Her poems are dreamlike, exploring child-mind and child-perceptions, like "Going Back To", but only one, Time with a Nighthead, is an explicit dream.
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