For the Sake of Strangers by Dorianne Laux
No matter what the grief, its weight, 
we are obliged to carry it. 
We rise and gather momentum, the dull strength 
that pushes us through crowds. 
And then the young boy gives me directions 
so avidly. A woman holds the glass door open, 
waits patiently for my empty body to pass through. 
All day it continues, each kindness 
reaching toward another- a stranger 
singing to no one as I pass on the path, trees 
offering their blossoms, a retarded child 
who lifts his almond eyes and smiles. 
Somehow they always find me, seem even 
to be waiting, determined to keep me 
from myself, from the thing that calls to me 
as it must have once called to them – 
this temptation to step off the edge 
and fall weightless, away from the world.
Monday, March 23, 2009
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