selected poems of Arlen Riley Wilson

Quiet Lady

1989




	I am not sure  these  rumors are about
	A place that's real   or not, nor is  it likely
	I will ever know. Inquiring out loud
	About such  things would be a mark
	Of....what? Ingratitude. Come closer though.
	
		They say that   ordinary women there
		Could walk outside at night without fear.
		I try to   imagine what  it would be like
		To see  the moon through branches
		While my  heels click down a street.
			I cannot finish  the thought.
	
	I know our dangers are the price we pay
	For freedom. This has been explained to me.
	
			Then on the  other  hand they  say
				This far-off  place has freedom
					But no maddened poor.
	
	I know
	This isn't right. That's not the way
	We're made. It's lies.
		Still just to see
			How   it would feel  I think yes
				I  would like  to go there once
								Before I die.
	
											
									



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