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Poem Number 62

This poem reminds us that anyone
can feel like a child at times.

The Bagel

David Ignatow

I stopped to pick up the bagel
rolling away in the wind,
annoyed with myself
for having dropped it
as if it were a portent.
Faster and faster it rolled,
with me running after it
bent low, gritting my teeth,
and I found myself doubled over
and rolling down the street
head over heels, one complete somersault
after another like a bagel
and strangely happy with myself.

 

from Against the Evidence: Selected Poems 1934-1994
Wesleyan University Press, Middletown, Conn.

Copyright 1993 by David Ignatow.
All rights reserved.
Reproduced with permission (click for permissions information).