Caroline
She wore
her coming death
as gracefully
as if it were a coat
she’d learned to sew.
When it grew cold enough
she’d simply button it
and go.
by Linda Pastan (b. 1932)
Linda Pastan
“Block” by Linda Pastan
Block
I place one word slowly
in front of the other,
like learning to walk again
after an illness.
But the blank page
with its hospital corners
tempts me.
I want to lie down
in its whiteness
and let myself drift
all the way back
to silence.
by Linda Pastan (b. 1932)