The following poems are part of an ongoing work entitled
FIT TO PRINT, PLUS--poems based on theTimes, and others.
One of Us
Barbara Winkler, 59, spends
$250 of her disability check
on a monthly rail pass.
This is her rent.
She rides the train
day and night
up and down the New Jersey coast.
Ms. Winkler eats a bowl of Chinese
chicken soup daily.
Sleeping is a problem.
So are laundry and bathing.
When younger, Ms. Winkler was well-groomed,
married, a mother. Divorce
broke her. When her family said,
"See you later,"
she tried a shelter, finds
the train's better. The conductors
all know her. One buys
her food. She has something
to do, someplace to go. She's
one of us, breathing stale air, hearing
wheels thump seams
in tracks.
TIMES, 6.10.01
The most awful thing about visiting
this place is thinking about living here
myself, in diapers and wheelchair with the
other old women, all worsening,
including my mother, who doesn't know where
she is. Sometimes she solves the mystery
by thinking she's home, asking me to mix
her a drink, order Chinese. The aides fix
her hair so she looks like a Barbie doll.
That stops after she bites one of them,
breaking the skin - she who used to zing
so deftly with words. Now she's told all
her stories. I can't make her young again.
I park. Breathe. Force myself to go in.
7.14.01
What I saw now:
nothing.
No birds.
No people.
No buildings.
No trees.
No life.
Outlines of human
bodies burned
like negatives
in cement.
"The Nuclear August of 1945,"
Op-Ed, TIMES, 8.6.01
Formerly forbidden bouquets
pedal into Kabul on bikes,
peacock tails spread, tugging
wind, catching light - I had one
when sick as a child - it hugged
my ceiling, slowly sank - when it
lay limp on braided rug, I was well,
got out of bed - the Red Balloon's
friends soar in Parisian updrafts -
the little lame balloon man whistles
far and we laugh - in Kabul a host
rises up, crosses continent, sea, swings
tethering strings into hands of fire
fighters' kids - blue, green, pink,
yellow, purple bubbles of delight
float like fall leaves, bump
adult heads, touch mourners' faces
in Trade Center Memorial Park.
TIMES, 11.23.01
TIMES, 11.25.01
--Margaret A. Robinson
CONTENTS