Aesthetic Realism Online Library Poetry by Margot Carpenter


    In the poem “Conscience, My Friend,” the “you” is the world and myself watching me. Mr. Siegel explained that the poem says, “It’s better to know who one is than to have the tremendous praise and attractiveness one can find in the phrase ‘hot glass.’” —Margot Carpenter


    Conscience, My Friend

    I can feel your eyes on me
         As I walk these rooms alone.
    In the silence that prevails
         You yet do speak to me.
    As the fading grayness of the dawn
         Lights my multicolored room
    So you fill me with the world
         And I am of you.

    Late in my hours and weary too
         I sometimes sigh for other afternoons
    With hot glass windows lifted
         And curtains tossed tenderly by breezes.
    They are near, those afternoons,
         Seeming so far.
    I find, with autumn's slow proceeding
         That I can miss that hot glass.
    And the breeze that crisply wakes me now
         Is different, deeper, too, somehow.

    Strange the way you come and go to come again.
         The way you watch me, makes me glad.
    Even away, you add to what I am, to what I see.
    Even away, you help me still to be.

© by Margot Carpenter

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