I Dreamt That Certain Women
Miriam Levine
I dreamt that certain women
were sending me letters:
Dear Child,
Where have you been so long?
Why not join us?
The one with jet beads.
And the one with the heart of flowers.
And the voice humming like a wasp in my dreams.
Doves cooing in the pink air of morning.
The clear notes of reason,
and the bitter drones of survivors
ready for anything—
stumbling, uncombed,
I find paper in the dark
and a pen
to answer . . .