|
Comment on this
article
He Lives on the Landing
by Rhina P. Espaillat
He listens to the banister,
he reasons with the air;
he lives on the landing
of the north side stair.
Oblivious to the subway crowds
that stream and come and go,
he lives behind four bundles,
outside the flow.
He's fairly clean, considering;
he may be twenty-five.
There must be some who wonder
if he's still alive.
There may be one whose anguish
is more than mind can bear.
God keep her from the landing
of the north side stair.
("Orphic Lute")
From The Shadow I Dress In, by Rhina P. Espaillat; David
Robert Books, 2004;
www.davidrobertbooks.com
(A
division of WordTech Communications)
The magazines in which these first appeared are listed in
parentheses below each poem.
Return to:
|