Nobody in the hospital

Could tell the age

Of the old woman who

Was called Susanna


I knew she spoke some English

And that she was an immigrant

Out of a little country

Trampled by armies


Because she had no visitors

I would stop by to see her

But she was always sleeping


All I could do

Was to get out her comb

And carefully untangle

The tangles in her hair


One day I was beside her

When she woke up

Opening small dark eyes

Of a surprising clearness


She looked at me and said

You want to know the truth?

I answered Yes


She said it’s something that

My mother told me


There’s not a single inch

Of our whole body

That the Lord does not love


She then went back to sleep.


–Anne Porter, Living Things 


One thought on “Susanna

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s