Friday, September 20, 2013

Glimpse

We want the spring to come and the winter to pass.
We want whoever to call or not call,
A letter, a kiss-
We want more and more
And then more of it

But there are moments,
Walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the
Window glass,
Say, the window of the corner video store,
And I'm gripped by a cherishing
So deep for my own blowing hair,
Chapped face, and unbuttoned coat
That I'm speechless:

I am living...


-Marie Howe

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