ADVISORY

Walk carefully; there are saints about
Sleeping in doorways or throwing dice
Against an alley wall. The bartender --
Surely her reflection has a halo?
Her shadow's almost right but shifts
Just a second or two before the light.
The glass from which you do not drink
Has bitter drops of redemption in it.

HESITATION WALTZ

Towards the end of her life
Dame Edith had doubts
That she was still real.
On days she wasn't careful
She'd pass through walls
Or surprise her reflection
Looking somewhere else.
She wrote a friend
That the poems didn't care
So long as she wrote them down.

PUBLIC LETTER WRITER

For a small fee, the public letter writer
Will write you a dream. She is very wise
And very calm and very old. Her eyes
Are large and quite sad. In truth,
Those who say she has been dead
Since 1912 have the right of it. No matter;
You will find her sitting in the shade
Of a long-demolished building.
She will see you two blocks away
Noticing your shop window reflection
Looks nothing like you today.
Before you were born she knew
You would come, and what dream
You would ask for and what dream
You should have asked for instead.