We didn’t win but does that mean we lost?
For our adversary
winning is success,
seducing with content as well as form.
As our lives slow to that ponderous rhythm
where memory fills
the hidden spaces,
failure tries to imprint itself upon our flesh.
Hard to remember that winning
is about holding justice
in linked hands,
savoring its breath against tired skin,
does not define
the essence of morality.
MARGARET RANDALL (New York, 1936) is a poet, essayist, oral historian, translator, photographer and social activist. She lived in Latin America for 23 years where she co-edited EL CORNO EMPLUMADO / THE PLUMED HORN, a bilingual literary quarterly in the 60s. When she came home in 1984 she was deported for "writing that was against the good order and happiness of the United States" but won her case. She has lived in New Mexico with her partner (now wife) of almost 30 years, the painter Barbara Byers, and travels extensively to read, lecture and teach. Her most recent poetry titles include AS IF THE EMPTY CHAIR / COMO SI LA SILLA VACIA, THE RHIZOME AS A FIELD OF BROKEN BONES, ABOUT LITTLE CHARLIE LINDBERGH, and SHE BECOMES TIME (all from Wings Press). Out from Wings in September: THE MORNING AFTER: POETRY & PROSE IN A POST-TRUTH WORLD.