by Margaret Tsuda

Image: Randy Calderone
Image: Randy Calderone

My eyes are
not windows through which
I peep at
hurrying crowds and
birds and things.

My eyes
are doors
through which I run
to embrace the
new day and
hail each passerby as

This poem appeared in the Christian Science Monitor on March 12, 1971, and in Tsuda’s collection Cry love aloud.

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