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This poem is taken from PN Review 170, Volume 32 Number 6, July - August 2006.

Ghazals Marilyn Hacker

Ghazal: Across the Street

Three cops - what are they waiting for across the street?
I'd make some quip, but you're not with me, or across the
street.

Sedentary traveller, facing my window
blinds rise on provinces I still explore across the street.

Who'll move into the newly-renovated two-bedroom
flat (opposite mine) on the fourth floor across the street?

I bought Le Monde late afternoons at the newsstand
replaced by one more pricey menswear store across the street.

I still knot a scarf to stand in the bakery line
you teased me, for caring what I wore across the street.

Fat drops fall. Shoppers huddle under the awning
till the bus comes. It starts to pour across the street.

I write 'you', shorthand for one more absence.
A motorcycle revs up with a roar across the street.
...


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