Frozen in their agony, the mannequins
ail in the darkened bay. A wan light falls
from the windowed wall, draping dingy gauze
across thin blue blankets tucked under chins.
Unplugged machines that boast their cost in size
have power cords atop their boxy frames
in coils, like tails the taxidermist blames
for lengths too thin to stuff with his disguise.
Beside each bed, a slender nightstand holds
an empty breakfast tray, a paper cup
for pills, and in a vase, one plastic rose
too perfect in its bloom. Above, tacked up
on boards, the campus daycare’s cards are fanned
with trees the children limbed by tracing hands.
Adam Tavel’s third poetry collection, Catafalque, won the Richard Wilbur Award (University of Evansville Press, 2018). You can find him online at adamtavel.com.