(This is another response of one of her poems)
I never wanted one
Until I had one
Those tiny people
Who arrived
After a nine month wait
Not by train
Or boat or buss
From Portland,
The person who is
A person from
The moment
I looked at her,
Real and full
Of something,
I did not expect
And cannot explain,
A real-ness
As real as I am
Eyes filled with
The same immaculate
Wonder I felt
When I look out
At the world,
Not yet able
To express it,
And shockingme
Reminding me of
The old woman
I once saw on
The edge of death,
Who could not
Speak either,
Expect with her
Desperate stair,
To say a mind
Exists behind
The eyes,
Needing no history
Or pain or suffering
To realize the
World into which
It has been thrust,
Is not one from which
To expect comfort,
Peace comes
With knowledge,
Not innocence
In learning how
To cope
That that space
Between birth
And old age.
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