Foundling

By Jessica Lake

A foundling

I was raised

among strangers.

They taught me

the names of things

before I knew

their shape.

So when I came

upon my own love,

I judged it

by another’s tongue.

I read

Sonnet 116

…an ever-fixed mark

Too late I see

Mine was not love

Had I been raised

among my own,

We might have spoken of

companionship,

of fidelity,

of shared burdens,

of choosing one another.

But never love.

That love

belongs

to another people.

So all my life,

I cherished

what I never had.