At 14
By
Don Welch
To be shy,
to lower your eyes
after making a greeting.
to know
wherever you go
you’ll be called on,
to fear
whoever you’re near
will ask you,
to wear
the softer sides of the air
in rooms filled with angers,
your ship
always docked
in transparent slips
whose wharves
are sheerer than membranes.
to lower your eyes
after making a greeting.
to know
wherever you go
you’ll be called on,
to fear
whoever you’re near
will ask you,
to wear
the softer sides of the air
in rooms filled with angers,
your ship
always docked
in transparent slips
whose wharves
are sheerer than membranes.
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Disclaimer
We do not accept unsolicited submissions. American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2008 by Don Welch. Reprinted from “When Memory Gives Dust a Face,” by Don Welch, published by Lewis-Clark Press, 2008, by permission of Don Welch and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2024 by The Poetry Foundation.