Secrets
(from Sun-Up and Other Poems: 1920)Secrets
infesting my half-sleep…
did you enter my wound from another wound
brushing mine in a crowd…
or did I snare you on my sharper edges
as a bird flying through cobwebbed trees at sun-up
carries off spiders on its wings?
Secrets,
running over my soul without sound,
only when dawn comes tip-toeing
ushered by a suave wind,
and dreams disintegrate
like breath shapes in frosty air,
I shall overhear you, bare-foot,
scatting off into the darkness…
I shall know you, secrets
by the litter you have left
and by your bloody foot-prints.
Lola Ridge
(1873-1941)
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