Etchings Not to Be Read Aloud
Reading edition
William Saphier
LIGHTS IN FOG
Weak sparkling assertions In an opal, opaque atmosphere Sharp suffering and Kindly whispering eyes In a wan, olive grey face. You mean all to a few And nothing to the rest.
THE OLD PRIZE FIGHTER
A rosy, I-dare-you nose On a twisted steel-trellice face, Just some knotty lumber Without a hint of flower or fruit. You tingled many a passion, But never a single soul.