I stalked her
in the grocery store:
of snowy braids held in place
by a great silver clip,
her erect bearing, radiating tenderness,
the way she placed yogurt and avocados
in her basket,
beaming peace like the North Star.
I wanted to ask, “What aisle did you find
your serenity in, do you know
how to be married for fifty years
or how to live alone,
excuse me for interrupting,
but you seem to possess
some knowledge that makes the earth turn and
burn on its axis—
But we don’t request such things
from strangers nowadays. So I said,
“I love your hair.”
Alison Luterman is a poet, essayist and playwright. Her books include the poetry collections Desire Zoo (Tia Chucha Press), The Largest Possible Life (Cleveland State University Press) and See How We Almost Fly (Pearl Editions) and a collection of essays, Feral City (SheBooks). Luterman's plays include Saying Kaddish With My Sister, Hot Water, Glitter and Spew, Oasis, and The Recruiter and the musical, The Chain.
The poem, "I Confess" is one of my very favorites.