where to be/impressions of protest

When I talk about the war
I look for the answers
in the faces of young women.

I recount my memories of demonstrations
in blades of grass.

I stared at the yellow bricks
listened to the sounds of the woman showering
and voices in the smoky distance
talking war and antiwar.

I awakened in a field
of clock radios--
Mother of Exiles,
blood must make you kind.

I will hide.

1968