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About this Poem 
“To the Others” was published in The Ghetto and Other Poems (B. W. Huebsch, 1918).
 

To the Others

I see you, refulgent ones,
Burning so steadily 
Like big white arc lights…
There are so many of you.
I like to watch you weaving—
Altogether and with precision
Each his ray—
Your tracery of light,
Making a shining way about America.

I note your infinite reactions—
In glassware
And sequin
And puddles
And bits of jet—
And here and there a diamond…

But you do not yet see me,
Who am a torch blown along the wind,
Flickering to a spark
But never out.

This poem is in the public domain.

This poem is in the public domain.

Lola Ridge

Lola Ridge

Born in Dublin on December 12, 1873, Lola Ridge grew up in mining towns in New Zealand and Australia. When she was thirty-four years old, she immigrated to the United States, eventually settling in New York City.

by this poet

poem

Do you remember
Honey-melon moon
Dripping thick sweet light
Where Canal Street saunters off by herself among quiet trees?
And the faint decayed patchouli—
Fragrance of New Orleans
Like a dead tube rose
Upheld in the warm air…
Miraculously whole.

poem
Cherry, cherry, 
glowing on the hearth, 
bright red cherry...
When you try to pick up cherry 
Celia's shriek 
sticks in you like a pin.

                     : :

When God throws hailstones 
you cuddle in Celia's shawl 
and press your feet on her belly 
high up like a stool. 
When Celia makes
poem

I
 
Cool, inaccessible air
Is floating in velvety blackness shot with steel-blue lights,
But no breath stirs the heat
Leaning its ponderous bulk upon the Ghetto
And most on Hester street. . . 

The heat. . .
Nosing in the body’s overflow,
Like a beast pressing its great