Kathleen Peirce If We May

Let us remain for a moment

on this border so gently touching

this other one. The children are speaking

forever to the parents who hear and say

the same in return: It’s good you are

where you are. Fewer presents

of glass along the iron road

makes sense. All the old languages

are sober now. You look, like a dog

in a suit, at once old and young

for your age.


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