SECTION SEVENTEEN
POETRY PAGE ONE
sm
COLUMN
FIFTY-SEVEN, MARCH 1, 2001
(Copyright © 2001 Al Aronowitz)
(Photo © 1995, Sunday Star, Auckland )
Song
What I
took in my hand
grew in weight. You must
understand it
was not obscene.
Night comes. We sleep.
Then if you know what
say it.
Don't pretend.
Guises
are
what enemies wear. You
and I live
in a prayer.
Helpless.
Helpless,
should I speak.
Would you.
What do you think of me.
No
woman ever was,
was wiser
than you. None is
more true.
But
fate, love, fate
scares me. What
I took in my hand
grows in weight.
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