This poem is taken from PN Review 57, Volume 14 Number 1, September - October 1987.
Women Walking1
My day is fettered by my mother's steps.
I learn the shopping list by heart,
discover architraves.
Walking this slowly
I nearly lose my balance.
I've not got that long
- at my pace I'd be going
somewhere, not marking time,
her arm locked on to mine.
...
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