A vivid, and compassionate, transatlantic snapshot from The If Borderlands: Collected Poems by Elise Partridge (NYRB Poets, £11.99). Though born and mainly educated in the USA, the poet spent much of her adult life, and her creative years, in Canada. Before turning to poetry in her forties she had had a successful academic career and held several degrees, including from Harvard.

TWO COWBOYS

He yanked the child along,

six years old? Dressed like him –

ebony snakeskin boots

scuttling through blaring cabs;

black bolos fluttering;

hats bobbing, black rolled brims.

~

Were they running late for a wake?

The father scowled. His nose

was gnarled, a boxer’s; blond

ponytail fraying, slicked.

The boy tried to keep pace –

skittered along on scuffed toes,

~

lurched off a curb. The man

swore, quickening his stride.

Oh not to be left behind

when all you clutch is one hand!

Was the boy saddlebag freight

flung on for aching rides?

~

At the light, he glanced toward me.

Brown colt-eyes, wary, full.

Let him be dashing from shifts

at the fair’s Wild West tent.

Let me not find him years on

tossed, broken by bulls.