Poetry Wednesday: Looking Back in My Eighty-First Year
Looking Back in My Eighty-First Year How did we get to be old ladies— my grandmother's job—when we were the long-leggèd girls? — Hilma Wolitzer I nstead of marrying the day after graduation, in spite of freezing on my father's arm as here comes the bride struck up, saying, I'm not sure I want to do this, I should have taken that fellowship to the University of Grenoble to examine the original manuscript of Stendhal's unfinished Lucien Leuwen , I, who had never been west of the Mississippi, s hould have crossed the ocean in third class on the Cunard White Star, the war just over, the Second World War when Kilroy was here, that innocent graffito, two eyes and a nose draped over a fence line. How could I go? Passion had locked us together. Sixty yea...