Tag Archives: Marjorie Saiser

Advice to Self, Again
by Marjorie Saiser

Today the cardinal in the branches
is the bird, but not exactly,
my father saw. Few who can
remember him are left, as there will be
a day when no one can remember you.
You will be a name on a list perhaps
but no one alive will know
what you liked or needed,
your hands, your ring.
Go out now into the streets and arenas
that know you, the rivers of people.
Walk in the crowds, your purpose
to shoulder among those who could,
if they wanted—
they for you, you for them—
scan for your face in the others,
and say the syllables of your name.

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 21, Issue 3.

Marjorie Saiser’s novel-in-poems, Losing the Ring in the River (University of New Mexico Press, 2013), won the Willa Award for Poetry. Saiser’s poems have been published in Prairie Schooner, Poetry East, Poet Lore, Nimrod, and Chattahoochee Review.

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So the Road Was Cut by Women
by Marjorie Saiser

I am grateful, especially to the ones whose names
I don’t know and can never learn. Nameless,

faceless, I thank you. You cut the road for me
and then today I came upon one who has

thrown a log across my path. What now?
Like all those women betrayed by women

before me, I climb, I find
a way around this latest block,

I grouse, I resent, I bleed where she scratched,
I keep looking ahead—there’s someone far in front:

the woman I need, toiling in hot sun
without the canopy of praise.

Plain cotton back bent over the trail.
I’ll follow her.

 

Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 21, Issue 2.

Marjorie Saiser’s novel-in-poems, Losing the Ring in the River (University of New Mexico Press, 2013), won the Willa Award for Poetry. Saiser’s poems have been published in Prairie Schooner, Poetry East, Poet Lore, Nimrod, and Chattahoochee Review.

See all items about Marjorie Saiser

Visit Marjorie Saiser’s contributors page.