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BRIGHTNESS AS A POIGNANT LIGHT, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: I tread the dark and my steps are silent
Last Line: Perhaps to view itself in me
Subject(s): Fathers

When my grandmother on my father's side
was dying, she lay on her back,
made rasping sounds. I was a child and I tiptoed
in and out of the room. Her children
and older grandchildren sat there
and waited. None of my uncles nor my older
cousins nor my parents spoke to me
and not to each other either,
not without whispering from their seats.
I went down into the street seeking
a familiar face that would address me
and to which at age four I could reply
in that same open and friendly way.
Today I bend over my wife's bed
to talk to her in low, gentle tones
to soothe her pregnancy and say gladly
that our newborn will turn our fear
into a living problem to cope with.

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