Peggy Dreger

Of course a goddess never tells her age.,
Nor how many centuries she has shared
These skies and seas with you
To fill your boats with fish, your homes with children.
...

Somebody made the phone call, Kay, to tell me you had died.
The bitter news to me was like taste of cyanide.
I wept when I rememberd how Marcia, you and I
Would talk the day away until the sun had left the sky.
...

She started from the parking lot and thought about
The walk that would have bee.
Inearly spring, passing the swampy bog, one of them might have said,
"any night now we'll be hearing those baby frogs"
...

On a Mexican back street the garments
twist and swirl above a cranniedshop,
The brilliant banners of her life's crusade.
Beneath, a graying head above a clicking dream machine
...