To The Others by Lola Ridge

To The Others

I see you, refulgent ones,
Burning so steadily
Like big white arc lights…
There are so many of you.
I like to watch you weaving –
Altogether and with precision
Each his ray –
Your tracery of light,
Making a shining way about America.

I note your infinite reactions –
In glassware
And sequin
And puddles
And bits of jet –
And here and there a diamond…

But you do not yet see me,
Who am a torch blown along the wind,
Flickering to a spark
But never out.

Lola Ridge
(1873-1941)
To The Others

• fleursdumal.nl magazine

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