Poetry
Winter 1987
Dialogue of the Tenement Widow
Blistered, battered, ransacked,Sold. God, I have heard storiesIssue from the mouths of these girlsI never knew were aching,Hurting with the kind of painNo one can be held responsible for,Not even […]
Poetry
Winter 1987
Spare Change
Loveless, she walks the bus stopBegging for change she says she needsTo get to her mother’s funeral. She comesTo me, limping, a misfit whose clothesLook too good for begging but […]
Poetry
Winter 1987
Calling the Midwives In
England, 1961 I lack compassion for one so round.Mute, I wonder about the child I houseWhile aged, slovenly midwivesFeed me another pale broth.Blowzy women, they guard me,Insisting I live. They […]