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The HiddenAuthor(s): Carolyn MarsdenSource: The Iowa Review, Vol. 10, No. 3 (Summer, 1979), p. 102Published by: University of IowaStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20155442 .
Accessed: 10/06/2014 14:23
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This content downloaded from 62.122.79.32 on Tue, 10 Jun 2014 14:23:15 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
The Hidden Carolyn Marsden
At 15 I cut your photo from the other family faces
and hid that oval
deep in a white prom glove. Mother's physicist cousin,
twice my age and a father besides,
you could name each star
in the sky's slow wheel.
Now our family broods together in the hall of round and yellow
prison tables. I am shocked and yet not, as at the two
pairs
of legs in the bathroom stall.
The relatives whisper of girls, little girls
who were not your fault, but the lawbooks specify.
Out back the peppertree dropped
plump red kernels over the telescope. The night I asked to see the dippers we both knew: it was once
too often. What was I looking for?
I remember you said if we could see on and on
it would be the backs of our own heads, the unseen parts of ourselves brought to light.
102
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