Sisters

American Poetry Review, The, Mar/Apr 2008 by Paley, Grace

My friends are dying

well we're old it's natural

one day we passed the experience of "older"

which began in late middle age

and came suddenly upon "old" then

all the little.killing bugs and

baby rumors that had struggled

for years against the body's

brave immunities found their

level playing fields and

victory

but this is not what I meant to

tell you I wanted to say that

my friends were dying but have now

become absent the word dead is correct

but inappropriate

I have not taken their names out of

conversation gossip political argument

my telephone book or card index in

whatever alphabetical or contextual

organizer I can stop any evening of

the lonesome week at Claiborne Bercovici

Vernarelli Deming and rest a moment

on their seriousness as artists workers

their excitement as political actors in the

streets of our cities or in their workplaces

thevigiling fasting praying in or out

of jail their lightheartedness which floated

above the year's despair

their courageous sometimes hilarious

disobediences before the state's official

Servants their fidelity to the idea that

it is possible with only a little extra anguish

to live in this world at an absolute minimum

loving brainy sexual energetic redeemed