RIFKAH GOLDBERG

STILL THERE? Twenty-five years ago or so My toddler son would Open my eyes every morning To see if I was still there So many times since then I craved for my mother's approval That small point of certitude To puncture the nightmare I have cried out in vain For my tortured father Only to remember he is dead So I must bear my own doubts For many years of nights I would reach out for the man I thought I married forever To uncover our violated promise I would daily search for My children at friends' houses Then in their beds until they came To their broken but only home Many a time I looked for my job To find it no longer there For one reason or other Eroding my false security Now every new dawn I strain open my own eyes And switch on my radio to see If the world is still there October 2001