Summer 1991 • Vol. XIII No. 3 Poetry |

To the Strangers

All this time I have never told you except here in this solitary secrecy never told you the wintersI have watched you draw your coat collar close to your neck or sit on the public bench and unwind and wind again the ragsthat bind your feet I have seen you walkto the ledge jutting over the river gloves between your fingers and the torn envelope holding the office letter asking you not to return None of thishave I gripped your shoulders and told youI have seen you sailing three feet above the riverbank with your mother's handsspread over your ribs I have watched you crossfrom curb to curb the divided street bent and belligerent glaring north and south to keep the cars in their places I have seen you lean against bricks discussing solvents and adhesives I have seen youcross the dirt lots sown with car parts and weedscarrying diapers and cigarettesI have seen the dark hairs crushed wet against your white shirtfront and said nothing I have seen you cowered under a raised hand trembling

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To Peace

By Suzanne Gardinier

All this time I have never told you except here in this solitary secrecy never told you the wintersI have watched you draw your coat collar close to your neck […]

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