Longing

The essence of the male is in the sailor.

Watch them when they land from any sed,

In carefree crews-so jauntily, carelessly sovereign, Hands stuck in pockets, lordly heads together, They plot the conquest of all bars and chippiesThen later sleep, and know the world grins, winking.

And I? I stand there dumb, and hear inside me

Voices raging 'gainst the fact that caused

My residence in weaker woman's body

While man lives in my head and heart and spirit. Perpetual warfare razes all my castles

And tears my soul asunder, 'til I die.

one

Jacqueline Lawson

D.F

12