Beggar Woman

Charles Reznikoff

 
When I was four years old my mother led me to the park.
The spring sunshine was not too warm. The street was almost empty.
The witch in my fairy-book came walking along.
She stooped to fish some mouldy grapes out of the gutter.
 

Poems by This Author

Meditations on the Fall and Winter Holidays by Charles Reznikoff
The solid houses in the mist
Notes on the Spring Holidays, III, [Hanukkah] by Charles Reznikoff
In a world where each man must be of use
Romance by Charles Reznikoff
The troopers are riding, are riding by
Te Deum by Charles Reznikoff
Not because of victories
The Idiot by Charles Reznikoff
With green stagnant eyes