Poem by Lola Ridge

Altitude

I wonder
how it would be here with you,
where the wind
that has shaken off its dust in low valleys
touches one cleanly,
as with a new-washed hand,
and pain
is as the remote hunger of droning things,
and anger
but a little silence
sinking into the great silence.

1. To the Others
2. The Destroyer
3. The Foundling
4. Broadway
5. Palestine

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