This poem is taken from PN Review 70, Volume 16 Number 2, November - December 1989.
DirectionsFine mist and then a fog tangle my feet.
A sidewalk I can't see defines the street,
But curbs are hazards where the luminous
Is beautiful or starkly dangerous,
Perhaps a streetlight or a local bar,
The corner grocery or a speeding car,
A guideline or my death. They all exist,
Unseen, but still expected, in the mist.
...
The page you have requested is restricted to subscribers only. Please enter your username and password and click on 'Continue'.
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 286 issues containing over 11,500 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 286 issues containing over 11,500 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
