I stood on a street corner early one morn; A traffic cop directed cars and walkers; Growling, he pointed this way, waved that way; I held tight my girls' hands; he said, "cross now girls." Did he speak only to my nursery? Or did he also include me whom he barred From the cosmos of men and men's doings -- Or was I barring myself from that norm? We went to Minowaskan park, the girls and I; I sat waiting upon them timelessly, Care-worn, ground down with my life project, Among mothers ground down by my life project; Seduced by stars and Mars, uranium and pearls. God blessed me with time to cross my girls.
©1990, John A. Mills