Untrammelled

THREE POEMS

UNTRAMMELLED

"Women are standing untrammelled on the threshold of 1930"

Well then, if nothing binds me,

Why not up and go?

(My grandmother's grandmother's slumbering thoughts

Keep waking so!)

Well, and if nothing hinders-

(Out-worn, this paradox,

That spirits of men hold stout-barred gates

With rusted locks?)

If, then, the kettle calls not,

Nor oven, nor land, nor loom-

(A babe that I bear not, choose not to bear,

Keeps crying to Life for room.)

If willing and being are mated,

Is Freedom's new self born?

(But Freedom's gay little gowns give out,

Her pinafores get torn!)