I told him I needed time —
he gave me a cuckoo clock
(I couldn’t work the winding key)
I told him I needed space —
he gave me a telescope
(or make the moon look back at me)
I told him I needed change —
he gave me a penny jar
(or stop from spending every cent)
I told him I needed more —
he led me to the well
(or count up every wish I’d spent)
Now I have so much time,
the cuckoo’s flown away
(the moon’s a clock that’s come unwound)
Now I have so much space,
it’s night for days on end
(the moon’s a shadow on the ground)
Now I have so much change,
the well’s just one more wish
(the moon’s a coin the well has drowned)
Caitlin Doyle, who grew up in East Hampton, is an artist-in-residence at Guild Hall for the fall. She will read from her poetry at Canio's Books in Sag Harbor tomorrow at 6 p.m. “Wish” previously appeared in The Yale Review and Poetry Daily.
