Three by Rita Dove, for Bridgid

Third Juror

between the lip
and the kiss
between the hand
and the fist
between rumor
and prayer
between dungeon
and tower
between fear
and liberty
always between

Fourth Juror

Cancel the afternoon
evenings mornings all
the days to come
until the fires
fall to ash
the fog clears
and we can see
where we
really
stand.

Twelfth Juror

why is the rose
how is the sun
where is first
when is last
who will
love us
what
will
save
us