This poem is taken from PN Review 63, Volume 15 Number 1, September - October 1988.
Five PoemsA Common Act
There was a night, all night,
when you threw stones at my window
all night.
At each crack, like gunshot, I set off,
blind, obedient, heavy, half-asleep
and found myself shivering on the doorstep,
amazed, barefoot, staring at the empty street,
time after time,
all night.
And you, where were you?
Behind the yellow glare of the streetlight
I couldn't see you anywhere.
I would have said anything,
but that wasn't the question.
And after some time I discovered
...
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